Darkness at the Edges

There is darkness at the edges

just night that removes colors

without permission

automatic deception

after daylight

before the morning refreshes

all the important thoughts

I am not depressed

I am just dull

and not able to keep

an interest in myself

at this hour

I know the sky

is packing sunlight

into empty suitcases

for a trip around the world

The sky and the air

that surrounds us

is an illegal immigrant

without a passport

unable to do any

reasonable work

except to provide us

with air to breathe

and protection

from the emptiness

of unconquerable space

So there is an opportunity

to let it fill out the paperwork

we so desperately require

The questions we have

on our forms

are not given enough paper

to answer

unless we allow

the answers written on atoms

even then

we aren't willing to learn

the language it speaks

we try oh yes

however

our mismatched intentions

are similar

to giving a tuba

to Thelonious Monk

which I have no doubt

upon which he could

make some kind of music

The question

on a high numbered line

might be

would it be his best music

With that I've run out

of space to provide answers

to anything important

The sky and its unpacking

the light of day

have me seeking

a dark closet or empty drawer

for a gas-filled mind

waiting in the spark of light

Barry G. Wick