Will-o-the-Wisp

As the sun sets and the darkness of night crawls across an open meadow, a small light flickers off in the distance. A warm glow that seems to brighten as if drawing near, then waning as if in retreat, playfully tempting pursuit with coy movements, a spirit as lost in death as it was in life, looking now to coax the unaware off their path and into the unknowable darkness.