Back in the early aughts, I used to write a poem every Friday. Inspired by Amy Turn Sharp, I’m bringing it back. Let’s try this!

Lady, lady
Come to me.

Cause lady, lady
I can’t see.

My nightlight broke
The bright went out
Fumble, fumble, cast about.

My eyes, they broke
My sight it went.
I feel the breath of monsters here,

Just like me, they’re spent.
Just like me, they’re spent.

Lady, lady
Can’t I just sleep?
It seems more safe for me

Lady, lady,
Get the light
So I can finally see.

Turn on my own damn light,
you say?

I thought I might be dead.

This switch, you say,
above me?

This one above my head?

Arms reach, I guess.
You were so right.
This darkness comes undone.

Flashlights, candles,
lamps and flares,
bright shining as the sun.