The light trap
the dazzlement of dusk
it’s chalk sparking
shadows tearing
into more shadows
dark arriving
the sides of the deep lanes
spitting like brimstone
brushed by our wake
echoes flare across the windscreen
flakes dancing in my hands
wrists powdered in graphite
faces like songs
smudged with silver
turning away from home
all our memories
caught in light’s quiet snares
a line of ice skaters
out on the midnight lake
streaming flames
hair on fire
fields flutter in their hands
the ghost of grass
reads their palms
moths size of plates
blackout the lighthouse
shipwrecks on the moon
