Tilly tells me
she “adores” the smell
of
the light.
Watches intensely
as I fiddle with the wick
of our battered
kerosone lamp.
I smile
as her eyes light up.
Love how she loves
everything with a passion.
“Adore” is her
new found much used word.
So now
she “adores” the rich ritual
of lighting the lamp
and all its accordant magic.
Hand in hand
we scatter the darkness
that snarls
& reluctantly backs away
but then creeps back
behind us
its tongue
lapping at us
licking its lips
as if it would
swallow us up
but it is afraid of
the smelly light.
The wind tries to blow us out.
Scared she clutches
me all the tighter.
“I don’t like the way the light
makes the darkness darker.”
Her voice shivers.
I catch her up
in the crook of my arm.
She cuddles closer
as we walk on towards the barn
adrift in a sea
of darkness.
We the only
speck of light
(no stars tonight)
we the light
of the world.
The pregnant cow
lowing as if it knows
we are coming.
She nuzzles
into me
a frightened
little mouse
jumping
when an owl demands of us:
”Who...who...who! ”
“Your chest is
too tickly!
She complains sleepily.
“Ah...yes. My little chickadee! ”
I W.C. Fields her.
This never fails
to amuse her.
Our intertwined laughter
& the smell of the light
dispelling
the darkness
the pregnant cow
delighted to see us.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-smell-of-the-light-for-lyn/
