an assurance

the day time
was his certainty

he sat high
over looked
supervised

decisions make
and he
the small god
of the domain

inferiors
cowed as they were
acceded
agreed
nodded fervently

upheld
and supported

there was no doubt
there could be
no doubt

but night

the dread night

night was filled
with no-certainty
with the questions
that had no answers

a lone electric globe
burned
through the dark hours
but provided only
a reservoir
a small reservoir
of not-night
around which the phantoms
and spirits
and gnawing doubts
of his own conjuring
fluttered
hovered
and peered
in an examination
he could not hope
to pass

the bottle
at his bedside
was certainly
only
one fifth
full

~

Poem #549 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.