Putting Out the Lamp
Putting Out the Lamp
In the dusk of early evening, one day,
I awakened from a belated nap,
And came to find nobody back home yet,
Only the wall-lamp flickering away.
I, the child, quickly getting quailed,
Started to run away from the dark haunted place,
But soon stopped for looking backward
For some reasons I couldn't quite understand.
Probably it was the left-alone lamp,
Or the picture of coward in my mind,
That had caught my legs from behind,
And forced me to the wall, to stand tiptoed.
I tried to put it out, without success.
--The oil? the wick? the flame itself? or the darkness?--
What in the world makes the cause of burning,
I could not know just that evening.
Perhaps that old lamp has been still kept on,
For I hear the same voice ask me tonight
If I'll try again to put the lamp out.
Michael Kwack
Tue 22nd Sep 2020 14:07
Thank you so much, Stephen, Shifa and Paul,
for your liking my recent poem.
I am much more than happy now. Thank you all my friends.
M.