When It's After Dark

I steal
all the light bulbs
and hide them like eggs
in a basket
going to some outlaw
I put on the best l can find
I cover them with a swatch
of something
that swells like a bite
that bleeds green
cloth that smells
of a feed store
but looks
to of been worn
I go over to nasty willy's bridge
and throw them into the creek
there in the shade I listen
for them
to make nests
to escape
agony and burst

© Ginny Stanford