The Dark

the dark creeps in slowly, a bit hesitant
once in, it wraps itself around me like a cloak
at the same time comfortable yet restricting
it knows me well, the dark
timing it's arrival perfectly
knowing the door is open just a crack
it nudges its way in and stays a while
an unwelcome visitor that doesn't know when to leave
I tell the dark, "you should not be here, you have crossed the line"
the dark smirks, hunkers down, digs in it's heels
and waits
a standoff, the dark and me
time passes
it is hard to move in the dark, hard to see
the motions of life happen by routine, by memory
and then suddenly
the light shines brightly through that same crack in the door
and the dark slinks out
the light is so much brighter after the dark has been there
the colours much more vivid
like a photo on lomo-ish
even though the battle is tough I am winning
one day when the dark comes again
it will not come through that crack in the door
it will turn away and come no more

For Don, who doesn't understand the dark, but who waits it out with love