Last Light
staring at the last burning lamp
in the chandelier
five down and I am waiting
waiting for the sixth to go
if I turn away I might miss it
the silent dim of the newly dead bulb
only then can I tell of the story
of the darkness in the darkness
the young will not understand
they’ll call me a fool, to talk of light
but I will, by my word
make it real for them
so even in the darkness
they will see as I have
and then they will praise me.
that is why I stare, and wait
’til dead bulb fades or blindness.
