The Present
Last day of May, first night of fireflies.
All the details of the day a blur and flicker.
Try to catch one and you’ll miss the all of it.
Look up and the leaves have turned black.
The sky pale as a wet cloth absorbs their dark.
The bat caroms off air with a voice we can’t hear
And at ground level the day stays a little longer
All that little lightning and no thunder.
Translations from the English 
wonderful!
Thanks E!
“All that little lightning and no thunder” — what a perfect last line.
All of this regarding a moment, yet it fills the mind with thoughts.
Thank you.