Night is a refuge
Of thinking whatever I want
And being free to dream that you are still here
Just dark and less dark
Breaking through my window
I consider the borough actually fixing the street light
But I am worried that will drag me from this Piscean set of thumbs floating over My tiny rectangle
As they search for meaning
I take a break and breathe in all the black and the faint pink of my neighbor’s porch light.
I remember how you hobbled to her doorstep and told her the new baby was “just beautiful”
And there I find what I was looking for.
Something real of you. Something you did. Something you said. Something just beautiful about your memory. I miss you. In the midnight edges and the creek stretches over the western front of my life.
I don’t know when light will come. Only that you promised it would.