In the real time of night we look around without torches
Darkness once inspired the most benign of our fears,
Monsters like Wild Things, rumpussing out of closets
And witches feeding us poison candy under the bed.
Now we rumpus about, high on the sweetness we found
And lit up like lanterns showing one another the stars
Whose myths are yet written. Grateful for conclusions unlike
Ones we wrote too early in our minds. We find love.
Soon we will defy metaphor and as we approach the back
Side of night, we find the sun sneaking over our sills
To a day we never thought we had, new air that feels old,
In a familiar way, like the air we had always wanted to taste.
Now we rumpus about, drunk on the intoxicating memory
Of childhood dreams that found us once the counted sheep
Looked back upon their tiny friend’s open-mouthed face.
Words written so early in our minds, we knew love.