Tired of Blackouts

When I was young those summers in the black
we’d run on down the basement for the light we’d lost
so we could see to set the breakers right
and get back to sleeping in the dark.
As kids we gathered ‘round the flashlight
so we wouldn’t have to face the black,
but night still had a way of chasing color from our skin
and driving thoughts of certain sight from mind
when our eyes were wide and white.

Those were summers all the lights went out
from every bulb and socket strung out porches
to every child’s bedroom lamp that burned.
And that’s when all of us closed our eyes
to ward the danger where it crept.
So they'd leave us blinded in the silence as the AC's
ceased up to leave me lying there in heat
with the streetlights all gone blinked for breath—
(so on those nights I soundly slept.)

They made light a treasure for whoever could
lay eyes on it, and so many claimed to find it
hidden in the night, but few were given peace by it
because the shadows it cast did creep and
stirred them savage in the trees!
But you showed up in the dark of my eyes,
in the red ember taillights I remember,
from this boy's fears and fantasies in every shadow
to where you stood out there at ease.

(You always were a tease.) 


--Poems from the Sprawl

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