There is a streetlight
Outside my window.
It shudders and shakes
And makes the world
As bright as it can
For as long as it can
Before dying
A thousand times a minute.
It cannot decide to shine
Or go dark
Or leave this place behind.
It clings to the importance
Of its flickering life
Across the darkest part of the world.
As if the intermittences
Of its appointment
Will save a life
Or move a mountain
Or light the way.
It gives itself over and over
For an empty street
In a wasteland
Without a soul to behold
It’s glorious sacrifices.
If I had a say in this
Or anything at all
I would whisper to the dying light
And lower it gently down
Into the darkness with me.
I would show it what is left
Of my own shudders
And we could both sleep
Knowing we are not as alone
As we were before.
Leaving the blue-black street
To the moon
And the stars
Or whoever is left
With some light to spare.



Cape Dorset
2018