The orange-tinted western sky patterned with wisps of clouds
The fronts of rushing cars and trucks in the streets below
The windows of brick and steel buildings that I walk past
The waxing white moon above that can’t be captured by camera
The lamps that glimmer and shine in the dark and overtake my eyes
The intermittent yellow blinks of fireflies I hold in my palm
The strings of electrical white that illuminate a Toronto tapestry
The neon blue and melting wax of the lamp I brought with me
The monitor screen I write this on in the comforts of my room
All of them lighten my burden with their glow
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1 Comment on "Wolverine Stew: Light"
Hey y’all! Apologies for this poem being later, I just got back home. I hope you all are having a wonderful start to break and get some time to relax!