9516. FOR THE LAST OF THE BEINGS OF LIGHT

FOR THE LAST OF 

THE BEINGS OF LIGHT

For the indigent and the ones who don't

know who they are, for the poor and the brave,

for the sad and the happy, for the bejeweled and

the encrusted, for those with hats, for haters

and for mothers, and fathers and sisters and

brothers. I write for you. For those who refuse 

to believe, and for those who can't but help

believing, this is all yours as well. For those 

who were there when the lights went out, and

the blitzkrieg fell from the skies, and the

people who were dying died. I write these

notes for you. For the lady with thirty-one

cents and little else, for you I write as I

watch you walk away  -  into the thrift-store

with your already sloppy ways but with 

your concern for others too. So gracious and

so dumb, together, but wonderful all alike.

For the guy with the cigarette face who

ambled to me and asked a few simple

questions  -  and to whom I wished to

give encyclopedias of good knowledge

and every solid thing; I write for you

and your lineage and for whomever

you may have had and whoever has

you now. All you last beings of Light.