The lamplighter

to go through the streets of Bonne
at night holding nobody's hand.

I do not envy you, lovers,
curled around one another's bodies

a hundred years of good deeds
distributed in God knows how many lives

to bring you to share the same pillow,
to rest your fears in the same dream.

but I move stealthitly through
the quiet neighborhood

putting off the spark of hundreds of stars
for you, by lighting the streetlamps

then maybe I do.

(Shared with the Imaginary Garden)