Sunday, April 24, 2011

Poem: "Instruction"


Then he felt himself awake in the dark alone.
—Marie Howe, “Easter”

I do not understand this light, this love.
I have not lived in darkness long enough.

The dark I know is the passing night.
The love I know is a form of flight.

God of the years, I ask for dark enough.
The hours answer, stay awake and love.

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