The power was out
restlessly we swam
through the humid haze
half crazed
more than half naked
bare skin and skinned knee
Like moth to flame
I beelined for your temple doors
Where you were not
and like moth to flame
I felt the fluorescent burn
of missing you
We waded through darkness
The blood dripped from knee to shin
Shrines were built to our goddess
naked beauty with woven baskets
at her womanly hips
and bosom begging for worship
The power was out for days
Not just the spider webs of electricity
sitting idly in our walls
The Sun had fled town
Where It went
we could only guess
We walked the streets desperate for daylight
but we would not
be sated with sunshine
People go mad in the dark
We were
wild
in our wounded world
We wept and picked at the scabs
that formed scars
we would not see
and wandered restlessly
waiting for The Sun to come home
Jill Robidoux. flickr
