Digest
I begin to digest my book
for clearer understanding—
a letter for light
a word for spirit
for being other and not
me at all.
Poems on the topic: light
Poems on the topic “light” on Poets.by.
Mixed Signals
fireflies seen from inside
a dark house
wander like the spirits
of lost children
or thoughts flickering
between synapses
but it’s wedding season
and courtship can be perilous:
an evolutionary arms race
between related species
each with a signature pattern
of light and darkness
the females get hungry
waiting in the long grass
so switch to mimic
other species’ flash patterns
Spring Evening
For anyone in the rural U.S., power outages are a way of life, so one of the most surprising things about the pandemic so far is that the lights have stayed on. I stand on the ridgetop as darkness falls, gazing at a very bright Venus high in the sky; below that, a sliver of moon, the black bulk of the Allegheny Front, and then the usual display of interstate exit lights, street lights and house lights. And in a town of 5000, however Appalachian, there must be at least a few Muslim families breaking their Ramadan fast.
spring evening
scent
of a backyard grill
8:30 and already most traffic has stopped. Way off down the ridge I hear the first whip-poor-will.
night forest
a glowworm’s
slow blink
The Hollow (37)
among straight ascenders
an ancient grapevine’s
grave accent
the last white asters
the woods are darkest
just before the fall
weak sunlight
witch hazel beginning
to extrude its rays
so green you’d think
it’s still spring
Christmas fern
Camberwell Beauty
Camera out, you stalk
a mourning cloak,
avid as a book thief
for that two-page
spread of darkness
glowing in the leafless woods,
you and the butterfly—
both quick to fly but loathe to leave.
And edged in light.
Wake
It doesn’t seem right,
looking at “the old moon
in the arms of the new,”
the dark part glowing
a bleary orange
with earthshine,
that we can still emit
so much radiance.
Indicator Light
Light-emitting diode,
baleful regardless of color,
our passport to a firefly future
of light without heat:
how it glows in the darkness,
like the wood-rot fungus known as foxfire.
I reach for it & startle
at the apparition of my finger—
clearly the finger of an alien
from some planet with a distant sun
& too many moons.
Hit the Lights
As long as the lights
stay on, we’re stuck.
You can’t sprout wings
or rake me with sudden claws.
I can’t turn into
a storm-tossed tree
or an otter slippery as sin.
In the light, we are
smaller than life.
Our cries are nothing
but failed words
& our sighs & gasps
might just as well
have been emitted by some
tired engine.
Light always wants
A Thin, Bright Line
Last night you came
In my dreams.
You were sitting on a chair
And glanced sideways
At me, standing.
You looked young and slightly plumb.
You never were plumb, I thought in my dream,
Amused.
You talked to me; kind words -
And smiled gently, with warmth.
Listening, I wondered happily
How you had changed.
In my dream, I remember
I wished, wistfully
At the images beginning to fade
That it wasn't a dream.
My shadow
Behind me,
Walking,
Always,
Syncing.
As I talk,
Listening,
Never,
Commenting.
My height,
Mimicking,
My size,
Copying.
My eyes,
Crying,
It's circles,
Despairing.
Daydream
I close my eyes,
Morning slips away.
Beneath my lids,
Light begins to fade.
The visions come,
When all goes black.
Sometimes peaceful,
Others mind attacks.
Blocking out,
The rest of the world.
Floating shapes,
Misty lines and swirls.
Blurry faces,
Forgotten time ago.
Returning to drop by,
And say hello.
The moon
Creating clones,
That resemble,
None.
Hiding beauty,
Show by only,
One.
Replacing warmth,
Bringing only,
Reflections.
Lighting up,
A dark sheet,
In fractions.
Holding no,
Real truth,
Or meaning.
Just to fill,
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