A pale light
wanders low through the breathless still of night
across fen,
forgotten track;
a wavering spark,
bog-born black,
never held, never kept.
No honest flame
mind in debt
but a will that troubles the dark:
a lonely shade
insight of heart
with no kin,
a sly thing with a crooked spark,
or the small, unquiet dead made bright
to linger at the rim of night.
Follow and it slips aside,
warm as want, then cold as pride,
till the path unlearns your name
and the ground folds you from memory
shame.
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 7:41 AM UTC
A pale light
wanders low through the breathless still of night
across fen,
forgotten track;
a wavering spark,
bog-born black,
never held, never kept.
No honest flame
mind in debt
but a will that troubles the dark:
a lonely shade
insight of heart
with no kin,
a sly thing with a crooked spark,
or the small, unquiet dead made bright
to linger at the rim of night.
Follow and it slips aside,
warm as want, then cold as pride,
till the path unlearns your name
and the ground folds you from memory
shame.
