Where I used to live, light
will be embracing this day
all the way around. Here,
where I live now, light
is shorter, night longer,
days waver less noticeably.Again and again I dream
of moving. Places strange
and familiar; neighbors
oddly unknown. Today
one of the young squirrels
took bread from the feederand came to sit at arms-
length in the tree above me.
She turned and turned
the food in her tiny hands,
scattering crumbs, then
stretched out flat and coolon the wide branch. I don’t know
why she joins me here, morning
after morning. I see a pale bread-
crumb traveling across the stones,
and imagine the strong-backed ant,
bearing the weight, carrying the light.
This week’s prompt is light.
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