The streetlight came on before dark
As if it knew something I did not.
The evening was not gone yet,
only dimming around the edges,
yet there it was,
that yellow globe
buzzing over the road
like a warning
or a promise
or a tired eye refusing sleep.
I stood in the yard longer than needed
watching moths throw themselves near it,
small pale things
too faithful to one brightness.
I thought then
that people might be built that way too.