sometimes, the light of day

sometimes, the light of day
sweeps a darkness we thought
we could not bring our hands around
we thought the noose of expanding dark
would trap the freedom of the lark
and leave a cloistered life
for evermore; but, no;

it seems the crooked door
could utter a plaintive song
which would let the light once more
wrap around the wooden shudders
softening sighs and lifting the tight
noose of darkened corners to one
which lets the semi- dim window pane--
a preposition to what we knew would wander in
no expanding light could be left out
when providence and upward gaze
courts the brilliance of one autumn sun
words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '14

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