This is not the first time I’ve

escaped my capture in a bottle

on a dewy summer’s night

The air thick like a sticky porridge

 

A child trapped me once

She emerged from the nearby cottage.

 

I remember the heat of her sticky hands

As well as  the strange look of her toothless smile

As she released me

 

Zoom! I flew free up up up into

far into the tree-line.