In our dark house, we can barely see
dried rain spots on the glass. A favorite
poem says that they are all gone into
a world of light. But we are here.
Maybe mom rests between
the Meyer Lemon and the princess flower.
Light connects all things, even darkness,
doesn’t it? Time to turn off our day,
make a space for dreams to thicken
like hoya leaves. When we awaken,
the window will still be dark,
a few stems swelling with buds.
Kenneth Pobo has been called a zipinoid, a fairy, and a feeder of Marc Bolan’s ghost. Some poems he loves: Binsey Poplars by Hopkins Hum Bom by Ginsberg, After great pain by Emily D, and Schubertiana by Transtromer. He wrote the liner notes for a Tommy James CD.