the fluorescent lamp releases
its soft light in spasms,
bit by bit,
until its brightness, like butter,
spreads throughout the room
reminding me of the time I watched
the color come back to Aunt Lily’s cheek
as she sprawled on the cot,
her face, transforming
from greenish white
to warm rose.
Seated here on the recliner,
I take off my glasses,
hold my book a little farther
to see if can read
without them.
The words, illuminated,
spring out of the page
to grab my attention.
My toes curl up and sensing
the glow under the gray
and black afghan, dig deeper
into the folds of warmth.
My dog basks under the pseudo sunlight
and sleeps undisturbed, punctuating
the silence with his deep
sonorous sighs.
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