I reach into the light 

to turn it off for one more hour 

but as it blooms bright

again and again I realize 

I could’ve had more 

but it’s not like I’ll remember 

what hasn’t even been said 

even now in the dark words

squeeze life out of the page 

there’s a flickering of faces and flowers 

fires burning up the mountain slopes 

chanting above the clouds outside 

where would I be without outside 

the wind racing through familiar branches 

while the roots hold tight 

it’s a long  fierce breath 

that runs ahead of the sun 

my ears play tricks these days

it might be rain I might reach

into that light once more 

set my feet on the floor 

take a breath before I move 

down the soft dark hall 

to stand under the sky

where I can feel the embrace

of the well-traveled air

and hang this poem up to dry