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"Photinus pyralis"

Fireworks and a bug's right to life on Independence Day

By Emily Wallace Published 4 years ago 1 min read
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Photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/audreyjm529/4768634077

Independence Day, 2016

She separates thorax from abdomen, tossing the former aside.

The abdomen, still lit, is placed on her fingernail as she waits for the fireworks to begin.

The bisected beetle flails its wings on the stone pavement, its glory taken.

“What have you done?” I ask.

Confusion furrows her brow.

“Grandmomma said it was okay. She did it when she was little.”

“So did I,” I say, “but that doesn’t make it right.”

Explaining a bug’s right to life proves too heavy a subject. I lose her 30 seconds into the lecture.

She hangs her head and walks inside.

I look at the bug, wondering if I should step on it.

Mercy killing.

It’s just a bug.

I still can’t do it.

Hundreds of Photinus pyralis hover nearby on this midsummer night, their bioluminescent undersides signaling to unseen, un-winged females. Now there is one less competitor.

Continuation of the species must go on without him.

Fireflies are nature’s subtle, silent fireworks, and I prefer them to the noise and extravagance of flash powder and flame.

Today is Independence Day, but tomorrow the fireflies will still be here, celebrating life and summer as usual.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Emily Wallace

Mother, writer, musician and textile artisan from Alabama

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