I was once a wildling child
Dreaming about magic, and dragons in the hills-
I never found them. But I ran barefoot,
And skinned my summer-dusted knees,
Listened to cicadas sing, and saw fireflies light up gold.
The Peregrine Review: Vol. 33, Article 14.
Available at: https://mosaic.messiah.edu/peregrinereview/vol33/iss1/14