My eyes are really bad.
So when I'm trying to fall asleep
and I see the golden orb of light through my window,
it takes me a few blinks to realize
what it is--
a street lamp.

Without my glasses,
the light widens and narrows,
grows and collapses,
patterns playing on its orange face
and edges smearing,
blurring,
sometimes shooting out like sun rays.

You are that street lamp to me.
Sometimes blurry and not quite distinct
but always there,
always constant.

A fireball,
a sun,
a star.

A light in the city night.