Second Sight

In the absence of color

my parched eyes drink darkness

through pupils

dilated and yearning.

It fills the vitreous chamber,

presses against optic nerve,

with the weight of the void

that is now inside me.

Upside down images of naught

reflected against my macula

dissipate and re-form

as I sit unaware

and stare

into nothing...

and everything.

For G-man's FF55.   

New York at Night

    New York at Night by Vivian Gucwa

Take my hand

and walk with me

into the night of the world.

Take my hand

and walk with me

into the simmering stars.

Take my hand

and walk with me

into the light of my wound.

Take my hand

and walk with me,

and I will make you whole.

Written for Tess Kincaid at The Mag creative writing group.  Also posted at dVerse Open Link Night.  Click on the links to check them out. 

Midnight Snack

There is homely magic

in this late-night kitchen.

We gather

in a communion of teacups

resting on worn Formica,

encircled by elbows

and infused with cinnamon and safety.

Warm, buttermilk light wraps

around our shoulders

like a 60-watt blanket.

It spills from the windows

carving shapes in the night.

Together we weave

our disparate stories.

They rise like steam before us,

between us;

twisting and converging

until we belong.

The image Midnight Snack, by Curtis Wilson Cost is offered as a writing prompt at The Mag.  Join us.

New

The hour chimes

the ball drops

and everything is new;

savage celebrating erupts.

But here

in the quiet, still center

a flame burns

blue-white and steady

in the palms of my cupped hands

illuminating a small circle

in the vast  night

where shadows shiver and multiply.

Chaos falls like snowflakes;

come,

share my light.

This is written for Mr. Knowitall's Flash Friday 55.

*Image from internationalministries.org