Message Received

Message Received

Two thoughts snap in his
mind as he picks his
way through the field,
large and  full in late
summer. It is night.
The grass touches his ears,
nose and he sneezes. Lost
in the darkness, his  
progress along the wall of
foliage, dense as the night, stops.
Moonlight enters
his eyes, wide and big as
an owl. Fireflies, not one
or even two, but a group
just right in number on this night,
in this field, flick  to each
other, to him. What are you doing
here, he asks. They twinkle an answer,
translated by the reeds.
The two thoughts return to him,
seeping into his mind with the
message of the tiny lights.
I'm alone, was one, the other,
how dark it seems. He turns
and runs into the grass.