The Streetlamp

I held upright the mighty Elm

with my childish weight,

and grew roots.

Night formed

comforting silence around me -

I leaned into my favorite place,

lost in this blanket of belonging

that the streetlamp had woven beneath.

Privy to the dance of gathering motes,

drawn to its hushed humming, I traced

metallic gray stalk with my eyes.

So tall the beacon bursting with brightness,

casting soft shaded light with abandon,

forming familiar shadows upon the earth,

helping the stars forget who they were.

Once, I fused with - had felt -

the night. Gathering

light shed from this bright dandelion,

it blew away all of my fears.

In the nights happy forum,

I received a gift, through

this dark-bright moment of silence.

Not the answers to all that surrounded me,

that little boy, that snug little root,

who thrilled at the mystery of wonder;

but the surety of fact

resonating deep from within -

there was no way

this could be a school night.