By Isobel Duncan
small lessons we learn as children—
don’t let them see you cry,
and some foods are good,
and some foods are bad,
and laziness is the bane of productivity,
and if he hits you it means he likes you, and don’t snitch, don’t tattletale, not ever—
are, in many ways, damning.
but the one that chased me
the furthest through the tunnels
of this unsolvable labyrinth
that we call growing up, is that
‘the most humane thing you can do for
a firefly is to poke holes in the lid
of the jar you caught it in.’
i thought i was so charitable
to shove a toothpick through the tinfoil
cinched atop the jar keeping it captive.
and i would call it kindness.
so, it is only natural that as i grew,
i became content with semi-suffocation,
so long as i was offered
a few gulps of fresh air every now and then.
it is only natural that i thought
the people who fed me
oxygen through straws,
like a jar-bound firefly,
were saints for being so kind
as to even let me breathe.
for the most humane thing
you can do for a firefly
is to not catch it
at all.
Featured Image: Toby Dossett