Nocturne For The Wolf Hour

Not even quiet is silent. Not even silence

is enough. Darkness reveals a cherry

queening–blossoms, quickened

by moonwant. Someone turned on

hope. A garage light flickers,

soon, soon, soon. The backyard flood,

casting doubt where it will, a driveway

at the end of a dark road

as bright as a tulip. Even a bare bulb

is wisdom. Do you see? Someone

turned it on. A warm hand

reaches out. Hold on. Hold on.