April 27th, 1937
Lamplight casts and azure glow
over the fractured glass of war.
Pulling limbs apart and breaking
swords beneath heels on the floor.
Candlelight, the companion of a concerned soul
that peers through an open window
where the wounded
recognize the wounded.
Nightlight rages from a house fire
where the charlatans are wild animals
mangling the bodies
of our lovers.
Lamplight shines
on an infant’s closed eyes,
a child who will no longer nurse
at the breast of his mother.
