October 2 / the dark thought

The dark thought is just ahead
Like a porch off the kitchen,
The door held open
By a painted rock. But the sliding
Glass doors beyond are locked and weather-
Taped shut. I take the dogs outside
Before bed and the sudden quiet
Of crickets as we round the corner
Is like the dark thought. The dull
Glow of the last light bulb going out
Is not the dark thought though
I think it is. It’s like the rocking chair
Which I know I can avoid but
Walk into because my eyes
Are still smarting from the light
Bulb’s ghost, fading memory
Of light, which I turn to curse
And see only the pitch black air:
The solid darkness and lack of
Location: the nothing to grasp:
That’s the dark thought.