Cricketing Around by Meryl Brown Tobin

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Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.

Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.

Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.

Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.

Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.

Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.

See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.

Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.

Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane

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