Fire bugs
It's almost dark and I start to see them. They are the koala bear of the insect world, not quite cuddly but certainly loved by all. They are always on the fringe, the edge of the woods.
Lights on, one, two. Lights off, one, two, three, four, five.
Like a lighthouse, they lure little boys with long eyelashes and cowboy boots out into the deep of the woods. Calling to them, mesmerizing them like a campfire with open crackling flames. And while many foolishly think they do not bite, they are wrong. How else do little boys with long eyelashes and cowboy boots end up dreaming of fighting fires? Of big dangerous blazes that rip through the forests. So while they do not leave any nasty welts, like their hated cousins the mosquitoes, the firefly just leaves the fire bug embedded deep within their victims. The fire bug that makes us all want to stand a little too close to the crackling flames.
Lights on, one, two, three. Lights off, one, two, three, four, five. I watch them on the fringe of the woods. Calling me out to join them.
Lights on, one, two. Lights off, one, two, three, four, five.
Like a lighthouse, they lure little boys with long eyelashes and cowboy boots out into the deep of the woods. Calling to them, mesmerizing them like a campfire with open crackling flames. And while many foolishly think they do not bite, they are wrong. How else do little boys with long eyelashes and cowboy boots end up dreaming of fighting fires? Of big dangerous blazes that rip through the forests. So while they do not leave any nasty welts, like their hated cousins the mosquitoes, the firefly just leaves the fire bug embedded deep within their victims. The fire bug that makes us all want to stand a little too close to the crackling flames.
Lights on, one, two, three. Lights off, one, two, three, four, five. I watch them on the fringe of the woods. Calling me out to join them.
By Linda English
