An Image Her Light Poem by Adam Berman

Father, dare I say,
I did not know true beauty until this day
when a little woman
bowed down to pray

Humble she was
like an appel with honey
so sweet is her love

Like this earth
I circle her
seeking for her warmth
her light

O' how cold is this night
how naked my heart
where have you gone
my sight, my sun
my only one

your place has been taken
by the coldest of moons
one they howl to
among dealers and lunes

crickets and foxes
in every path
I move in
I ask for directions
they point to their skin

O what company is they
But death
blind still
a wounded animal
too shocked are to heal

a pulse of faint
mine grows rapidly strong
I search you in the crowds
not a sign or a mourn


Rich in your beauty
I say
how poor in delight
angels descend you
but not on this night

I drink for you, woman