Late at night, a shadow becomes its own
life alive on the wall or curtain, and when it moves

a piece of everywhere
moves with it. Is that okay?

In this world, it is good sometimes to be afraid.

And in this telling
of the story, some of the fish went to waste.
They lay in heaps, the spectacle complete.

Every life
has its own light, and the sayings of confident men
don’t make trees

subject to interpretation. They flash and bob
as they please. Is that okay?

Still, we are still

here. Like ghosts in love

with the living, we listen but find it difficult to speak.

This poem, from Day 7 of Let There Be Light, originally appeared in Diode.

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