Solar System 25
The light isn't the same here, there are days
when I have seen it slide along, its stray
beams wandering, searching for any dark
corner that might have eluded its stark
illuminations. Shadows cannot stay
here for long. This radiance has a way
of sticking, like bright honey; it arrays
itself and drives umbrage off. You can’t say
the light isn't
oppressive; I know it is. I miss grey
shaded places, miss night skies, miss the spray
of stars that blackness brings. The light here sparks
strobes, pulsates, and always hits its mark;
darkness is always gone. I hate the way
the light isn't.
