By Joseph Brannan
Little bug,
like the metamorphosis
of each sunset,
you are reborn as twilight glows to fade
from bristling beetle
to flittering lantern
wafted on a dusk air
Little one,
grab life like a firefly
pounce two-handed
and wide-eyed with joy
wait patiently
for each magic glow,
then release it like a dream,
for if you hold too tightly
It will die in your hand
Little one,
may your dreams be steadfast
as the stars, yet dance
when it seems like the sun isn’t shining