Poem 31: Candles Don't

Candles don't brighten the room
we keep burning things
I don't mean to be obtuse
but there are large chunks
of a tree lying on our fence
our picnic table our snowy
back yard -- this all started
in a shoe store when the lights
went out -- it kept snowing
and snowing and the leaves
in the trees were still green
I haven't raked I said, I haven't
All over town the snow stuck
to everything the clock stuck
at 1:10 in the morning
the morning stuck to the shovel
in clumps -- thank goodness
for oil lamps for wood stoves
for waking up at 63 degrees
and stoking it for all the times
we stoke it for the stars
no street lights for envying
the people on the next street
over where we can see lights
in the windows for milk
on the back porch covered
in snow better than the refrigerator
better than October better
than going to bed in the early dark