Blow out the candle and see
the darkness decrease:
red berries on the yew
outside the window, growing
as the sun rises,
the yellow grape vine
framing the frosted flowers,
gray dogwood crimson, white and green.

Blow out the candle
and the darkness decreases:
what you don’t know,
the smallness of your self,
the wideness of the world,
all the colors of this morning,
the brilliant point
of the morning star,
the lamps in other windows.
Outside your tiny circle
the darkness decreases.
Step outside: so many now,
standing on our doorsteps,
waiting for sunrise, waiting.

(An autumn poem, but given the world right now, here it is.)


It was published in Passager, 2006

This entry was posted in Seasons.

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