Light

--Kęstutis Navakas

somebody turned off the light in the room and

only then did i begin to see. all of childhood’s

wooden horses began to glow even the raspberries

eaten forty years ago released their aroma it was

raining melodically outside and lightning struck

seven kilometers away it was safe though and

looked like nothing at all would be it looked like

everything always would be and here then

somebody in the room turned off the light

and for the first time in my life i was amazed

because i could see in the dark. a copacetic dark

yet this is still the room in which i am

alone. lights out. for a long time