July 8, 2016

Charles Simic

THE VICES OF THE EVENING

The way the light and shadow
Go one with their tug-of war
While the night busies itself
Behind our backs

To catch us by surprise
With a single burnt matchstick
Left in someone’s hand,
Who forgot why he lit it,

Unless it was for children
To find their way
Through weedy gardens
And narrow back alleys

from Rattle #17, Summer 2002