7718. THE LIGHT SURGEON

THE LIGHT SURGEON

Angels fly from candles like dreams fly

from wings. Just so you know I know I

know all these things. The crossword

puzzle of heart and mind leaves so much 

here but alone. I am the singular quandary

of my own blue heart. Let the light-surgeon

come in, I am ready for him now.

-

Somewhere in New York State I passed a

prison along the road  -  by a large intersection,

in a tiny nowhere town, where it seemed, just

as odd, that most people worked for the system.

All I saw was prison guards and uniforms with

trucks. Fences on the windows, and gun racks

overhead. So strange, in this land, how we

shackle up the living for the life that they 

deserve. Or seem to. Or need. Not much

to preserve. At every red light in that

tiny town, I swore I sensed someone

ready to break out. I wondered, in my

way, who's really in prison here.

-

There was a candle factory, and  -  yes  -  a

hospital, in which the light surgeon worked.

I sensed a magic something about his touch,

but all his patients were already dead.