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Just Follow Where The Light Goes
In her stammering scintillations
She owned the forlorn vesper
Famished for an abeyance
She was an armada of light
A sprinkled sugar in the lattices
Of a cobwebbed chandelier
The ubiquity of the dark sky
Was already her possession
But she cannot see her petals
That are tightly curled, of a sudden
Wide open like a moonflower
Fringing the dominion of
The fringeless silhouette
Of the constantly shifting weather
And there was no trail
That you have not followed
Northern light, far behind
Is south, distally are east and west
What lisping choreography
Can you not follow.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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