The Bug Catcher

She was a little tyke
of six or seven, maybe.
The hoop and net almost
too heavy and unwieldy
for her to raise. The
pole double handed
waved the bug catcher
around in a series
of jittery motions.
From the porch, we watched
as all the bugs pursued got away.
Butterflies laughed and winged
away in pairs. Bees, fortunately,
went higher and beyond her reach.
Persistent, she tried all
morning and for her pains
brought back in a mason jar
one grass hopper, an ant,
and an earthworm.
Tomorrow was in her eye
and the net put aside until
playtime came again. More 
energetic running and chasing
the impossible would start
all over. Perhaps, by accident,
a fly, a cricket, or a
lady bug.

© allets 2023
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no comments or critique sought.
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