The Lamplight Waits

Cobblestones shine
from the rains.

The steam rises,
dividing the sun’s light
into colorful rays.

The lamplight waits…

but its metal,
still warm from the day,
invites my hand
to remain where it lay.

Night comes in this way.

It sleeps in the corners
and it dreams
in the hidden places.

In this moment,
I wonder whether
I should move my hand
when the warmth fades.

But, it still rains,
and the cobblestones
cannot dry.

For now,
in this moment,
I will remain,
and await
the waking darkness.

I see it stirring
in a thousand gleaming eyes.

The cobblestones are wet
from the rain…

Oh, how they shine.

©️ Obol, 2019.

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