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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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