I left a jar
in Tennessee
and waited for a short reply.
In the jar
was a shorthand note
and a fluttery small firefly.
I hoped it’d be noticed
sitting in a street
and I waited and waited
and waited and waited
hoping someone would call.
I left a jar
in Tennessee
and waited for an answer.
I made it glow
within the twilight,
a passerby would see it for sure.
Of course with the lovely slopes
of jagged blue Smokies.
What if the finder was a native?
What if they knew not my language?
This all I wondered in bed at night.
I left a jar
in Tennessee
and hoped I didn’t die
before a response
from a dutiful lad
hopefully not too shy.
Will I wait
my whole life long
for a short response
I'll never get?
