I must have been six or so
when, unsoiled yet by the world’s many worries,
I played in the rain, naked and wild

with children my age or more or less
chasing termite alates freshly
unleashed from their colonies

we ran around in the rain
chanting in our native tongue
praying the rain to bring us bounties

a group of termites would fly over our
heads, lazily, yet beyond the reach
of our tiny limbs

we would wait, patiently, raindrops
dripping down our little bodies, knowing
it’s only a matter of time before

these elusive termites would lose grip and land,
lose their wings and become easy
pick into our waiting bowls

the rain would continue to splatter
away as we return home with our catch
our outside refreshed, our insides hopeful