I have lived my life as a lightning bug in a Mason jar,
contented by glass confinements.

I remember being ten years old.
My sister and I stood very still
in the backyard, eyes scanning the dark air
to catch any glimpse of a glow.
We chased lightning bugs with cupped hands
to place beauty in waiting Mason jars.
We kept them until we caught four or five
then opened the jars, releasing the bugs
to watch their freedom flight.