Fireflies

Me and Teddy, we go firefly catching in the summer.
We always go firefly catching, we do.
Teddy, he ain’t got no arms.
That don’t stop him.
He catches them lighting bugs in his mouth, and I hold up a jar for him to spit them in.
Bam. I put the lid on.
“Ain’t they pretty, Bobby?” He say. “They so pretty, they is.”
Teddy, he go off to college, leave me here with my jar. he smart and stuff.
I wonder if he go firefly catching.
Probably not. He ain’t got no arms. Or me to hold his jar.