The Song

The Song

When the darkness comes,

I will be in a cool stream,

When the darkness comes,

I will be at Trail Creek Tavern
on Saturday night.

When the darkness comes,

I will be a bright light.

When the darkness comes,

I will be smoke from a cigarette.

When the darkness comes

I will be the loud voice heard
over the choir,

And will sing like the
tenor at the Metropolitan

And I will sing like the frog
kissed by the princess,

And I will hum, the world will hum
also,

And I will chant, the people will chant
also,

And I will drink, with vestiges of light
seeping slowly through the cracks.

It will be Saturday night

And I will leave in an old car,

My head eased of pain,

My thoughts free-falling,

Free as a puff of smoke
from the smelter stack,

Identical now to the smog
and clouds,

As the tide turns and recedes,
back to the beginning,

The music fading away,

And the streetlight, on the corner,
waiting for sunrise.