kids and bugs
Lightning bugs are emerging
from their cover in the clover.
Spreading striped wings and blinking
across the Kentucky hillside,
spelling out their secret messages
in bioluminescent Morse code.
When I was little, some of the cousins
would squish them between their fingers.
Raid the full mason jars so carefully collected
and rub all that glowing magic
on their dirty, wild, faces.
Some of the cousins would steal
that buggy brilliance, that glow.
And I’d cry for the fireflies
left at the bottom of the jar,
still gleaming, but out of sync.
Still kicking fragile legs in the air,
too touched by us to shake loose
and fly off into the night.
7 thoughts on "kids and bugs"
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I really, really like this poem, and I love pondering the line, “too touched by us to shake loose…”
Great poem. It makes me think of how hard childhood is for empathic kids – “and I’d cry for the fireflies / left at the bottom of the jar.”
Love this poem. Particularly struck by the repeated sounds in the lines “from their cover in the clover. / Spreading striped wings and blinking,” & the powerful ending lines:
“too touched by us to shake loose
and fly off into the night.”
too touched by us to shake loose
and fly off into the night.
That is a great two line ending!
think of all the moments
from then to now,
millions and millions,
and the miniscule amount
of what we remember
is our narrative of who we are.
your poem is a great expression
of this
Great lines cover in the clover, too touched by us to shake loose, and such empathy from a child who became a poet!
The empathetic child became a poet!