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Tenacity of Lace

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Musings #38

POWER OUTAGE               


What shall we do, my dear old love,

with nothing to distract us from each other?


Suddenly shy, no, frightened – not by the dark,

but by an intimacy we’re unaccustomed to.


I imagine we watch the fire spark and flame,

candles flicker in the draft,


sip from a bottle of leftover wine. 

And as the otherwise dark enfolds us –


we enfold each other, 

our murmurings lapse into silence. 


We tire, not from ennui,

but this intensity.


How strange how strange the so-familiar

has become.















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