Hunting the Firefly
As it darts out of my sight
It’s light flashing in the darkness
And illuminates the night

My only tool my bottle,
In which I hope to capture fire
A bizarre form of Prometheus
Seems to be to what I do aspire

Why do I seek to hunt along the treeline
In the summer evening heat
For I quarry I just imprison
Not domesticate or eat

What hubris do I seem to hold
To put this insect in this prison
Knowing full well it will die far before
It will see the sun arisen

How strange that I feel the need
Perhaps this pastime too will pass
I hope I will release it, not
Keep it imprisoned behind glass

Perhaps I truly am just jealous
Of the light carried by the firefly
And seek to deprive it of its freedom
And watch it slowly die

Or perhaps I’m just forgetful
Of the rights of other beasts
I pray I remember to release him
Before the sun rises in the east