(Not Haiku) I didn't know it, but

I didn't know it, but I am a light.

A big, shining one.

I pick up black light t-shirts 

& eyeshadow that glows like the moon.

I glare with swears and sarcasm, 

but can low light those things too.

My light can't be snuffed out. My life proves this.

Though unplugged for seconds, minutes, days, even months, 

somehow

I get plugged in and

start lighting up again.

Written Yesterday

Solstice sun still hot --
geese cross the twinkling lake,
never mind the glare.


-----------

Old woman, rushing - -
she stops to smell a rosebush
and hurries away.

Summer sun glares down...

Summer sun glares down--
a crow hops in the shade 
of an old oak tree.

Also Written a Few Weeks Ago...

A sliver of moon
against clouds made pink by the
glaring of streetlights.