I’ve lit cathedral candles
so you can find your way
down gargoyle aisles of stone
to where naked ghosts are sitting,
cold, and shivering,
waiting,
waiting there for you.

I’ve lit the forest campfires
for when you’re called to go
beyond your quiet village
to where the elves are laughing,
drinking, shrieking,
crying,
laughing,
about what they’re going to do.

I’ve lit the bedroom lanterns
so you can freely make
your way
from room
to shadowed room,
where witches sit
crocheting baby blankets,
little blankets soft and blue.

I’ve turned the neon lights up bright
so you can find this bar
from miles
and miles away,
to stumble in the door.
And all the wolves will stop,
look up,
and grin,
and begin to move toward you.

When you’ve reached at last for naked ghosts,
heard the shrill of elfin laughter,
watched the witches slowly stand,
and felt wolf fur on your skin,
then we’ll go back to the darkness,
past the useless light of reason,
to a place where darkness started...

...and it all begins again.

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David Hutto has been a featured poet at the Callanwolde Arts Center in Atlanta. From the Georgia Poetry Society he won first place in the Byron Herbert Reece award for 2020, as well as first place for the Alabama State Poetry Society Award for 2021. He currently lives in Gainesville, Georgia, where he keeps the lights on.

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