She didn’t warn me.
She warned of coughing,
but not of walking.
She warned of a fever,
And I believed her.

Of losing smell or taste,
Precautions to take place,
Not for lost eyesight,
Silly to assume in hindsight.

But that night,
She didn’t say,
On that night,
I’d be okay.

I wasn’t warned of the twilight,
The evening sky, all alight.
Not to be afraid of the flight
of the bugs or their bites.

There was nothing I could have done,
And yet, I wished to be warned by someone.
When the bug flew by,
And hit me directly in the eye,

Crying and running blindly home,
I realized my life had turned monochrome.
A singular worry,
Blotted out the color,
Made it blurry,
losing sight
of everything else
in my life
going alright
and on this night,
scratched and teary-eyed,
It was with pride
I learned to look out for the happier side.

And also for bugs
In the night sky.