This day that splits the year in two tips the balance:
light to dark. Shadows rise early in this season. By
the thin morning light, each day’s shade wakes
graver than the last.
……………..I cannot follow the sun
like a bird. I’m bound to one who loves the world
dark. Now I want a hundred lamps—a thousand lamps!—
to light the day.
……………..I tunnel upward in secret.
Handful by slow handful, I press past the slumbering worms.
*This poem previously appeared in Glass: A Journal of Poetry, volume 6, issue 1, June 2013. (ISSN 1941-4137).
Contributor’s Notes: Nancy Priff has been published in Ruminate Magazine, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Kaleidowhirl, and The Writer’s Chronicle as well as in several anthologies. She holds an M.F.A from Fairleigh Dickinson University and has received a Fellowship in Literature from the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts.