Bulbs

There is a simple yellow beauty in life.
In Death there is white, but as
you hold your arm up to an incandescent
bulb burning bumly in the early morning darkness,
you can see the softness of yellow and how
gentle our color can be

What is there if not Life and Death,
Yellow and White, Natural and Uncanny?
We can see the edges of oblivion, the shades
of dark we exist in, but when you stare
so boldly into the Yellow, you cannot see Death
just waiting on the other side, biding his time
until the bulb burns out.

(1/2015)

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