Light and Line and
Lightness
The lamp beside my bed is faithful,
even in the dark.
The ink in my pen is smooth and blue
and patient.
It waits for me to grasp it with hope
and draw it out across another
bare page.
This woman I have joined and who has
joined me, is cool as marble when
the day is hot.
She is light when the room is heavy,
an arc in a world of angles.
Tonight the lamp understands that what I need
will be darkness.
The pen knows that I have nothing at all
which needs saying.
My room is chilly sometimes even after
a warm day.
When I have become prepared to sleep,
I know that the woman will be warm,
light and lovely and
warm.
2005 Daniel Thomas Moran