in gratitude

art on the corner, Charlottesville, VA

The day is over, the day is done,
night's great curtain has fallen,
pin pricked & shimmering,
outside the window pane

animals scurry, prowling,
as moths beat themselves against
the light---and tomorrow i will
find their remnants, but tonight

on the table, a plate of bones dries
still held together, a carcass bereft
of meat, marrow straining through opaque
points--it flew once, this bird, with purpose

danced lazy on the drafts, or strutted
round the yard, gave birth, sacrificed
it's children to breakfast---the joints,
round & dimpled, ribs templed,

back bone notched---i suck
my fingers then pick my teeth with a sliver
of wood, not to miss a moment, content
then let slip the remains of this day
along its own juices
into the garbage

and flip the switch
giving way to night,
so those seeking the light
will stop killing themselves to reach it.

written for Theme Thursday & Imperfect Prose