Against my shop window I could hear a fluttering critter. First guess, a stray dragon fly was nervously dabbing on The pane its body glitter? But a closer look revealed a thing a lot spryer. A thing unwilling to yield; by resisting my help… so let it die. But the poor thing was over-tired, spa zed out; Its instinct knew freedom is what it’s all about… I wanted to help by flushing it back towards the open door, Back to the glory of flying free. But it was low on nectar juice and short on time… So I used my pointing finger as a perch for rest, On a horizontal plane where it faintly lit with a sigh… First guess, I readied as a flower pistol or water spout. Gingerly I tip-toed forward to an open door, exiting Outside where both of us shared a common bond… Knowing freedom is what it’s all about, It’s that or die!