Artificial Light- recently published by Wilderness House Literary Review

In darkness still
clouds are uniting, disbanding,
supporting the steeples
from above

and men are acclimating
their sight to artificial lights
and clothing the world
with songs of their flesh
that ages no faster
if starlight alone
be their measure.

And alone in starlight I
am wondering if a pause
is conversation’s evolution,
a more discernable place and time
to commence movement.
If the single anti-sound
of dying
and the din
of waking again
balances each word
upon its many meanings.

If darkness
is its own light,
supporting the steeple
from below.