A Surfeit of Light

A Surfeit of Light
by Michael R. Burch

There was always a surfeit of light in your presence.

You stood distinctly apart, not of the humdrum world,

a chariot of gold in a procession of plywood.

 

We were all pioneers of the modern expedient race,

raising the ante: Home Depot to Lowe’s.

Yours was an antique grace--Thrace’s or Mesopotamia’s.

 

We were never quite sure of your silver allure,

of your trillium-and-platinum diadem,

of your utter lack of flatware-like utility.

 

You told us that night--your wound would not scar.

The black moment passed, then you were no more.

The darker the sky, how much brighter the Star!

 

The day of your funeral, I ripped out the crown mold.

You were this fool’s gold.