Catching points of light while growing up

Mommy has left the Folgers can for me.
I hold the nail just like my dad showed me
Last time. It’s rise and fall into the top
Until I’ve ripped the can enough. My feet
Touch grass spewing with cold; Calling the light
To make the sky spin around in my mind.
Then I begin to run so hard that I become
The night. I stop and stalk that which I love
Again I halt the glide the bug has flown.
Bringing the light in pairs to make a bulb.
After enough I subdue my mind to
The light. to morning when I will set them free.
Green dots will breathe their light into my hands.

this one was done for a poetry class that I was taking to teach our class about meter. The title is important for this one.