Firefly

I am eight playing
With my sibs in the slow
Dusk of summer catching
Fireflies we are brutal with the
Hard hearts of children as we catch
A firefly wait for it to shine yellow
Green then smear the glowing
Liquid on our cheeks and
Arms running around
Trees shrubs like
Wild Indians
In bright
War
Paint
Until the
Darkness falls
Shadows grow inky
And we are called inside
To wash off eat our supper
Watch some TV and go
To bed innocent of our
Mayhem unaware of
All even our own
Inner light we
Trust will not
Be smeared
Out across
The face
Of our
End
We
Fall asleep
Clutching our
Teddy bears or
Silk lined safety
Blankets secure
In our blissful
Ignorance
In a far
Corner
Of a
Spiral
Arm of the
Milky Way galaxy
On our blue
Planet.