You call me firefly, and that means
I don’t need to be a butterfly, and dress
in bright colors and show off my wings.
In the twilight, my glow makes you smile,
and I glide and hover, drift and reach –
around you – as you cherish my light.
You would never put me in a jar, or ask me
to dim my light. So I land upon your shoulder
to rest, until I am ready to shine again.