the fate of the light

I was chatting with my old friend Nicole (she of the willow and catherine wheel works) when she abruptly began questioning me on the murkiness of my relationships of late. I had no clear answers, as I am in shadows, but the conversation inspired this poem.

the fate of the light

there's a haze on my rainbow.
a mystery of the light.
a memory of a kiss
on a yet-unlived night.
that I still can remember
this November, and yet,
there's dust on a collar
that once knew your sweat.
and I don't have the answers
to the questions occult,
I can't see the spectrum
to acts of the penult.
but I am yet uncertain
of the fate of the light.
and precognizant memories
of a new wedding night.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

Nicole told me that I am the bravest man she ever knew and "the" poet.
The cowards get all the fun, Nicole. At least in this life. As incomprehensible as it may seem, I will wait, as instructed.