They are the flashlight soldiers,
And always come prepared
With pockets bulging with batteries
And the vow to “not be scared.”
They hunt beneath a moonlit sky
Shadows lurking in
the dark
Neutralizing them with their light beams
To banish them from the park.
The hunt continues for many hours
Until the night air carries their name
Halfheartedly, they say their good-byes
Agreeing tomorrow, they'll continue the game.
Once inside, they brush their teeth,
While protesting their bedtime, they yawn.
The cicadas sing in the cool night air
As night shadows creep across the lawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment