an assurance

the day time
was his certainty

he sat high
over looked

decisions make
and he
the small god
of the domain

cowed as they were
nodded fervently

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
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
and peered
in an examination
he could not hope
to pass

the bottle
at his bedside
was certainly
one fifth


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

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