Running through tall grasses
glass jar in hand, cover off –

I can still detect a faint scent
of peanut butter wafting up.

He traps one first, a firefly,
lightning bug, mom calls it,

his lid on tight, holes punched
for air to get in, bouncing off

the sides, looking for escape;
my jar empty, we lie down

looking through glass at the sky,
jar light obscuring our vision.

Frantic firefly bangs glass over
and over until I cry. Finally,

he opens the jar to let it go,
I see starlight through my tears.

Selected byNolcha Fox
Image credit:Robert V. Ruggiero

Julie A. Dickson has written poetry for over 50 years, has served on two poetry boards, coordinated 100 Thousand Poets for Change for 5 years and her work appears often in various journals including Medusa's Kitchen, Blue Heron Review, Open Door, Misfit, MasticadoresUSA and Uppagus. She has authored YA fiction books including "Bullied to Death" [Piscataqua Press] and Poetry books, the latest being "Untumbled Gem" [Goldfish Press]. Dickson holds a BPS in Behavioral Science, advocates for captive elephants and shares her home with two rescued feral cats.