Where there is no darkness

​

The blackout resembles a fog much more than a lighting, 
steadily slowly sweetly street lamps begin to dim
they fade they pale for one last time
they glisten, a dying goodbye shine.
There, the light has vanished
and before the wonder
before the fear
I breath
relief

​

At the beginning, no-one

missed it. Darkness, I mean. 
We all got accustomed to be

blinded by the lights of

a never-ending midday. 
Didn’t its artificiality bother us?

No, not really.

Well, not immediately. 
And now, years have passed,

there am I, welcoming with

enthusiasm the dark. The truth

is I have been waiting for it.
Now the City seems almost

peaceful. 
Even the electronic clocks in

every street, the ones that

never sleep, 
even they have been

forced to rest. 
Those clocks: inventions

presented as a surrogate

of normality.
When everything changes,

you have to pretend that

nothing has changed.

​

Stars
A faint whitish glare
A far feeble flare
On top of a black blanket
Three lonely sparkles
Three longed lost spots
Connect the dots:
Orion’s belt

Orion’s belt. Why do I remember that name? Name of a past thing. 
Name hidden by time. Time. Since it has become forbidden

to turn off the lights, time itself seems to have changed its shape.

And I have been losing my orientation. They say a perpetual shine

helps to sharpen the sight, but mine is definitely fading,

together with my memory. 
What about before? Was there even a before? 
 

​