The light was timid
As it kept its promise
To shadows and shade
On narrow spaces
On faces hiding
Joy and impatience
The light was evasive
In the rush of cruel cities
Where identity
Lost its name
And became
Just a refrain
The light was never warm
But to hands cold of await
Became that promise
Dressed in quiet shadows
Like a gypsy dancer
Wearing
Red shoes
Light was an illusion
April 24, 2025
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025
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