summer game
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thru the middle of June
when the fireflies swoon
and the warmth of the day lingers on
the late dusk pantomimes
with the moon as it climbs
and the curtains of daylight are drawn
the dance of the leaves
on warm summer eves
isn't lost on the creatures of dark
but a lightning bug's dance
is for naught but romance
as its love life depends on a spark
up-and-down through the night
they waltz curves with their light
making sure that their rhythm's just SO
weaving reeds in tall grasses
blinking soft-lighted passes
at the prospects now drawn to their glow
but other "bright" creatures
are charmed by the features
these shimmering lightning bug lovers
and as parents direct them
their children collect them
in jars with holes punched in the covers
the endgame of their duty
would seem to be beauty
those dazzling scintillations, to see
and while most admire
insect glimmer and fire
when finished, not all set them free
you see …
some squash them with fingers
while that glowing stuff lingers
so they write with it, words, or their name
they continue this act
hence learning, in fact
to kill without conscience … or blame
now though it might seem
that this childhood scheme
only ends a few creatures that crawl
that lesson will impeach
the one we should teach
that ALL life is precious, no matter …
how small.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2024
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