Late at night, a shadow becomes its own
life alive on the wall or curtain, and when it moves
a piece of everywhere
moves with it. Is that okay?
In this world, it is good sometimes to be afraid.
And in this telling
of the story, some of the fish went to waste.
They lay in heaps, the spectacle complete.
has its own light, and the sayings of confident men
don’t make trees
subject to interpretation. They flash and bob
as they please. Is that okay?
Still, we are still
here. Like ghosts in love
with the living, we listen but find it difficult to speak.
This poem, from Day 7 of Let There Be Light, originally appeared in Diode.