Something About Light

Colored and white twinkling

In the darkest time

Unlit hours of the year,

Your year,

Mine.

Switch the light off in candle glow.

To understand how a candle dies,

Turns inward

To disappear.

A flicker glows stronger,

Briefly,

Still

Then dark,

Winter. Still.

But not really.

Unseen morning beseeched by headlight eyes

So I carry the flashlight.

Unnatural shadows made

For their piece of mind..

It’s safe when I’m in the place

We’re not supposed to be.

Across open boundaries,

I turn the artificial glow

Into myself.

So, we two disappear.

The longest night of year

Folded into itself.

Flame. Flicker. Dying candle.

Seconds, minutes, hours

Own light

When not compared

To others,

What others

Expect.

Still.

Seconds, tick

Around all faces.

Day comes,

Winter. Still.

Dark(ness) hours

Have nothing to do with light.