e. w. Oestreich

Nightdrift

All of the colored lights

 are dark
 and the holiday

 glistens
 no more. Dismiss

the thought of a celebration in brightness. Stark
is the landscape

of Winter.

            *
Invent some new
mythology

for me - lantern-like,
to be borne in this shadowy Lent

 sparkling eyes
 amid bramble and sight

 in the tar-darkness
 of thorn.

Let it gather me far to a clearing, and there
let me catch an occasional glimpse

of the
stars.



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