An Audacious Escape
Now parked, I saw the firefly
ascending from my truck bed.
His fluorescent tube acted
as a gentle jetpack, a hovercraft,
an audacious escape.
Relaxing on rusty vacant bolt holes
previously used to clasp the cap,
he did not recognize my turning ignition
signified a twelve mile drive
down the orange-barreled highway.
He must have moved to a cozy stick
safely tucked between turbulent winds;
held tightly inside the air pocket.
Was there fear? Being taken from
all that was family? His family tree:
a distant dream. Now a foreigner
ripped from the ghetto that his companions
and he developed together as larva.
Hatched. Took flight;
flashing their unique twinkles for females
watching in the leaves. Conversely,
like a stowaway praying
inside the cabinet of a ship,
he may have executed
an audacious escape.