The Weight of Light

We sit on a bench in the park,
you and I and the sliver
of distance we carry between us,
and your eyes fill with the weight
of the perfect light we've been given to bear.
The sun shines inside each leaf of every tree
and on their trunks and through each blade of autumn grass.

The world outside this illumined order is dark,
as it always is, which makes our portion even lovelier.
In this moment, sowing its great and murderous
swindle overseas, the state
efficiently removes the available light from the air
of thousands of darkened rooms. The economy
requires it. We hold each other fast.

Copyright © 2007 Sidney Wade All rights reserved
from Stroke
Persea Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission