Around midnight, I look outside
and see small solar lamps in the gardenglow. Daytime, the lamps
stuff a little sunlight in their pouches,
which at night they empty.
Soft and unassuming, the light
massages flowers and stones.
Seeing the lamps stirs some hope in me--
not much, but these days even
some is welcome. i stumble
back to bed to sleep and,
like solar lamps, to release soft
neural light into carbon-neutral dreams.
hans ostrom 2024
No comments:
Post a Comment