Bright Light

slipping into comfy sweaters of olive green in the beginning of fall; a slick, smooth ice cream cone dripping down your hand from the summer heat; fire glowing amber as it settles down for the night; pleasing someone; riding in a car in a gentle rainstorm; finding that place in the throat that opens up into a deep cavern of unrelenting sound; tapping the forces of yet untested creativity and strength; building an “easy assembly” desk all alone; having said desk not fall apart afterward; understanding the meaning of life; being okay with not understanding the meaning of life; hearing one song that sums up your whole existence; reading one story that changes your perception of life; watching people move as though they’re pulled by some invisible fishing line; breaking open a hot piece of bread and watching the steam rise out; seeing someone talking to themselves before they notice you’re watching; imagining that at night, men in dark coats meet in abandoned buildings to perform ancient rituals; fully tasting a bowl of warm tomato soup; listening to the slow slurp of a drink as it’s being finished; white terra cotta walls contrasting deeply against the green moss growing upon them; making music with the rumble, rumble, rumble of a trashcan against cobbled sidewalks; feeling the beat in the pit of your stomach as the marching band goes by; feeling long wool skirts cover a long-looked-over body; staring at half-finished hand-made afghans covering the end of a bed for months at a time; bright light after years of darkness.