Images of a streetlight

Brian Dang
A long gray pole beams out a yellow light.
A pole beams out a light.
It beams out a light.
A light exists.
A light.

It blinks in the dark once.
It blinks in the dark.
It’s bright against the dark.
It’s in the dark.

A yellow halo encapsulated the darkened pavement.
A halo is disturbed on the sidewalk as bodies weave through it.
It emanates warmth as the moon leaves.
It buzzes slightly.

        (my mother
        sends me pictures
        of her sky
        and I send her back
        these images of a streetlight
        and she tells me that it feels
        as if I had never gone)

In the blend of the nighttime cloak, wrapping itself
with hidden presiding over the
   moon
a stalwart pillar of
beaming,
glittering,
shining, persists over the
cracked ea  r  th, illuminating
   tiny
       rocks that sit snug sunken into the
    ground.

When the moon comes again, it
can’t compare.

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About the Writer
Brian is a writer of prose and poetry dealing with all manners of the everyday filtered through words trying to leave the page.

Editor: Sun