you keep asking what the light is for
ask the bulb and it goes on being a bulb
a porch light on a road with one house on it
has no second job
the shed stays dark all winter
so does the far fence line
the mail carrier slows at the box and doesn’t look up the drive
a house is made of its lit rooms and its dark ones
the whole house is the house
under the errands and the argument you rehearse alone in the car
there is a homesickness for the place you are standing in
you have been carrying it from room to room
like someone searching the house for the coat they have on
the bean row you strung crooked came in anyway
you ate from it all august
every wrong turn is road
there is no straighter road underneath it waiting
you will want to leave for the houses with warmer windows
you will come back with sand in your shoes
and the same hollow in the same place
what you wanted was in how you held the cup on a tuesday with nothing in it
it rode with you the whole drive
this hour has one person in it
the next is empty until you arrive
the last one left with everything it came for
some days the mind quits pacing and the walls step back
some days the walls stay put
and you eat standing at the counter sure you have lost it
it was the same sitting
the bulb burned the same on both
at the bus station a boy is lost
a man kneels to his height and says nothing clever
he holds the boy’s coat sleeve until the crying is done
his hands shake the whole time
a shaking hand holds a sleeve as well as a steady one
a sorrow met in the hall stays one evening
a sorrow kept at the screen door stays the winter
the spring pulls the door shut behind both
one evening you find the one you kept it lit for
was the one holding the bulb
walking home and keeping the light on were one task
you have been at it since the first night
on the night your arms are too tired to reach the switch
the night you are sure you failed it
someone comes up the road with mud on her knees
she has your face at eight
she says i saw it from every bend
she wipes her feet
and comes in
—lyra moon (a heron stands in the ditch across from the house most evenings with its back to the porch)
october 12, 2026