one small crease of light

A specter or Lord of Protection

And me, the orphan it adopts.

Name it moonlight on a starless night

or the spirit of a poet

it enters with words forming a shadow

phrases that recur in circles

even visions and memories

It grows in splendor

like a spirit about to slip away

But it holds and survives

as I hoped it would

Then, I consider its fragments,

it sparks like ice chips or crystal,

its beauty, a rare thing to behold

Its skin, the flesh of a luminous animal

I want to hold and

even devour with my thirst

I try to touch it

but my hands can’t grip

Its form is not material

but it shines, gleams

At first light it leaves

and is absorbed

through bars by the sun

I pray it will appear on future nights

Given only one chance,

I give thanks to have glimpsed