Vigil

Vigil

I first saw them

around midsummer, walking home

in the early evening shade.

They stood, huddled together,

aside from the flow of traffic.

Not quite dark enough yet,

their candles didn’t cast much light.

Everyone else seemed to ignore them,

so I did too, despite their queer appearance.

 

The second time I saw them, their numbers

had grown.

Four now, all dressed similarly,

with the same candles as before.

Still no one seemed to pay them attention.

And so neither did I.

I was late to a meeting

with a friend.

 

I guess I’d catch them

every two or three days

over the course of the next

several months.

They never seemed to say anything,

or interact with anyone.

Just stood there,

with their candles,

and their dark clothes,

and their cryptic sign

saying:

Remember Ma-Ga

and D.S.

 

Winter’s set in now,

and the dark comes early,

and stays late.

I haven’t seen them for a while,

but

whenever I walk past

the corner they used to fill,

I think on how

their candles would flare brightly.

People would see them,

now.

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Posted on November 3, 2015, in Pink Poesy and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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