Where ya been hiding, lightning bug? Screen doors and porches at dusk are just not the same without you. I heard that song that plays when the wind blows through your tree tops again, a Cyprus chorus, the other night. Just a verse. This one:
"And woman. This is where it all begins. Kissing the door **** before the next turn. And woman. It may be where it ends. Letting the bridge smolder, and smoke, and then burn. Shine on. Shine on. Again."