They light up the trees and in the trunks
I see inscribed, “You will never be a child again.” And in the leaves, “Your children will never be small again.”
Now, instead of catching them and putting them in jars to watch them closely during story time, we watch them from distances. One is crossing the porch railing on his tiny legs. Before he turns back to light, I say a quiet farewell to no one in particular.