Vulnerable lightbulb

Softly I shudder

at the relapse of wonder

as if by a stroke of good fortune

I remembered all that once was

and now stands alive in my memory.

To take it all in and never hold back,

let dreams be free and no nightmares last,

this shortened decay on my vulnerable brain

feeds my head for awhile, but it’s soon to pass,

inevitable, though true, it could be you.

Like a lightbulb burned out by its own power,

illumination resides in the spark

and not what happens after the fading shower.

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About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
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