Dec 7, 2008


Would like
your body lit by a single candle flame.
Rain frozen upon the window.
Electricity out.
Would like the shy willow of your hair
to reach up just that once,
high as it would go, to then flower.
Birds, I guess. Song.

Odds are,
it is only your heart which starves.
May the light that captures you--
O, only the thought
of the light that will be lost
is lost.