Lights
By Kilian O’Flanagan
And She could not hear,
Nor did She want to.
For lights are far prettier
Than Trucks and noise and cars.
Her fascination with lights
Began at precisely 11.01,
The exact time a well off man-who-
Was never content with what he had
But always wished he was, Died.
Her father took a picture of her birth,
The flash was on.
That was her first experience of light.
As she grew, her upsession followed.
She could stare at light for hours on end.
Yet She could never look at the sun
Because that is what her mother made her promise.
As She aged, to innocence,
She developed a fondness for Christmas.
Lights of all colours,
Illuminatlnating the stucco,
Caused by the pewter glow of sun.
She could not help leavening her Home.
In search of these city lights
When She found them
All she could do was stare in awe
And She could not hear,
Nor did She want to
For who wants to hear
A trucker
Slam on his breaks
and skid across the icy road
Who wants to hear the sound their death?
As the truck hit
Her Nerves, Her Heart, Her Breathing. Stopped.
And She dreamt a dream
A pure dream
A dream not effected by the goings on around her
A dream where She could dream whatever She wanted
And in it
All she did
Was stare at the sun.