The light was not for me by Elisabeth Horan

          Paolo Margari Candidato CC


​
The light was not for me

You've done as well
as the sun is
accepting; unlike me
in times of lightning

Irregular twilights, accident zones;
three dead, one wounded,
a dawn, where coyotes
sing alone.

Who knows why
things must rotate,
our selfish orbiting
heads, filling up more
than their circumference

Worth - our time, on Earth
nothing if not fervent; inane -

I did not do as well
as you, In following
the rules,
1am is the blackest
hole, purpled suction of

The needle draw.
The water, not clear -
platelet crimson,
dawn felt nothing for me;
came not for me -

With Devil straw, inserted,
blessedly, I considered it then;
forgive me, son, for
it seemed like a friend.

I do as well as I am able, without
knowing your older face, nor
how it compares to your brother’s

I take no chance in saying sorry
knowing I was not, most things
a dad should be.

But I can sleep, perpetually in
darkness, knowing
the boy I often wronged

Has survived, dare I say,
flourished, in life; even in
the blinding,
white glare of daylight.

Bio: Elisabeth Horan is a poet/mother from Vermont, who enjoys working with horses and spending time with her two young sons. Her column Arsenic Hour is featured at TERSE. Journal. Her first collaborative chapbook comes to life this March at Moonchild Magazine. She teaches English at River Valley Community College. Follow her @ehoranpoet and [email protected]

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