In the lonely kaash woods by the creek
I asked her, "Who might you be?
With your lamp, protected from the wind
Under your cautious drapery?
My home remains unlighted, bleak
I could use your lamp, if you can
Leave it here for me." With a stare
She refuses, for she has a plan,
To float her little lamp in the river
This, I find quite pointless
I notice her lamp slowly drift
Away in the water, in darkness.
Another dusk descends. I stop her
To ask, whether perhaps, tonight
As her home is so brightly lit
She may part with her little lamplight.
She is still for a moment. Dark eyes
Stare at me, as she says
"But this... is for the dark skies
To keep a little corner ablaze."
I stare up at space and I see
How her little lamp burns, pointlessly.
The night of the new moon returns
I make yet another request
To her, as she walks slowly by
Clutching her lamp to her chest.
"My home remains unlit tonight
Give me your light, kind princess!"
In the darkness, she lifts her dark eyes
"This one is a tribute," she says.
A tribute to the autumn fete of lights.
Yet again, I remain a witness
To her light, burning among countless others
In effulgent, vain endlessness.
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