The comfort of fireflies
Housed in a brown-glass bottle
The fruits of labours spent over
A long day of laughter
Is soon forgotten,
Like the African mask keepsake
From a year’s past holiday,
In the face of a steaming
Bowl of porridge
Newly removed from the heat.
The title intrigued me very much and it interesting to see the connection to porridge (comfort food.) The first few lines were so vivid…it took me back to childhood. I love your poetic devices ..alliteration “.. a long day of laughter” and comparison to forgetting like forgetting the African mask. Beautiful!