An Unlit Light
The night fell away
dousing its own darkness,
a weak dawning light
hovered hesitantly,
over its scant trembling edge.
Mist was not mist
but an erasing smear,
the sky was a half-closed eye.
Those who watched,
wondered if the new would stay old,
or not lift itself at all
from the crib or the grave,
but fade away in its own blooming.
For a long haze-tricked time
we walked in the wrong shoes,
as a dim twilit world
struggled silently to picture itself.
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