Stories and Light

I know a man who couldn’t

Escape sadness, and lost his

Older years, looking for something

Already gone.

I know a man traveling aimlessly,

Yet going in the wrong direction.

Trips in circles, each smaller than the

Others, until they disappear.

I wish I had something else to

Offer you, other than stories

And the light of an old brass

Lamp.

I knew those who carried the voices

Of their tribes.

I too carry voices, and a dim

Light.

I keep a brass lamp and my stories,

To keep you warm.