Strike the match
for a brighter moment.

The candle glitters through the air thick with
darkness and thoughts and sounds
echoing from the unknown around us.
Power has escaped into the somewhere else
beyond this Nebraska farm house.

Sealed inside, only the whisper of light.
We must wait
in scant illumination of reality and nonreality.
No view in front of us
or behind.

All we can do is hold our gazes to this
flame
between us:
flickering
each moment
we breathe
together
fragile
trying to beat back the darkness.

And you know what?
I bet it can,
I hope it can,

as the wax coats the fingers of
our clasped hands,
and hardens them
together
in a moment.