HORSES

Lux desiderium
universitatis:
light is the desire
of the universe; tonight
the moon
is on its side, partially lit,
and patiently waiting
for more light, while
Lucinda sings
that if wishes
were horses
she’d have a ranch; and
in an old storefront on 38th
the windows are bright
with the people inside
learning
to dance; the
street lamps shine on
November’s last
stubborn leaves.

The dancers
are moving their mouths,
counting,
counting and wishing,
with each breath for
I don’t know
what
horses, maybe,
or more light,
or something
gold
that will stay.