The sun packed up
on this winter’s night
leaving the block vacant
for the hours it takes
its inhabitants to return
to light lamps and TV
that interrupts the dark
that is attached
to the shortest day.
The vacancy makes
the early dusk susceptible
to plain thought,
intentional disregard,
and the charlatans
equipped to pull
weak hearts into discord
with the promise of illumination.
Winter does not
cause this to happen
randomly or as an
isolated incident,
rather it holds
in its cold soul
the belief that we
can find radiance
through reflection
in her annual ritual.
Longer days busy
schedules for us
as we race to
keep up with
the energy of
the slow dip of
a summer’s eve;
we’ve not time
to consider what
we can produce.
The long pause of a
short dusk and
the darkest night
can, like flint, strike
firing interiors brighter
than any sunshine
could manufacture:
the light comes from within.
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