February 4, 2024Any Kind of Light
Your voice said Watch what happens now and then
I woke. Of course it was a dream for you’ve
Been gone for many years, dead dead & Dead.
But still I wait. For what? An icy sluice,
A spurt of flame or lightning’s long arm bent
To etch your insignia on my back,
Okay, more pain. I thought of you—I read
We’ve learned why moths (you always wondered) bash
Into light, any kind. Why don’t they stop? Stop.
They can’t. For eons stars were brightest
And moths steered clear of sky, but now they drop
Into the suck of incandescent night,
They spin and spin, wings loosening their damp
To heat. Now watch what happens, says the lamp.
from Poets Respond