And each day the workers waited
for the renewal of their daily permits.
And when the clouded sky lightened,
they watched insects flicker and glow.
And old folks spat on the ground,
mumbling toothless legends of times
when all bugs weren’t lightning bugs,
when leaves burst forth from trees in spring,
when you could drink the rain and rivers,
when the sky was dark and there were stars.
And the memorists were shoved back,
kicked and beaten for their lies.
And everyone agreed with what we know:
since the beginning, all bugs have glowed.
A response to Read Write Poem’s NaPoWriMo prompt #2: The Old Acronym Switcheroo. I went with RWP as Radiological Work Permit.
I’ll be sticking with my usual no blogging on weekends routine, though I will still be doing NaPoWriMo, but the poems will be micro-poems posted at a gnarled oak, to which I do sometimes post on weekends.