Fireflies

When will I stop missing the wide-eyed era of my girlhood?
Catching fireflies in glass jars in the sticky, summer air. Bare feet in the grass,
it all seemed attainable then. The world at my fingertips, 
the realization each morning of having the whole day ahead.
What would I do? 
Would I put on my pretty pink swimsuit and imagine I was one of the assure…