The Weight

The darkness folds me into a warm heavy blanket. 

It seems sincere, but it is not. 

I do not trust it.

When it gets too dark, it takes a lot of energy to shake off the weight and come up from the deep. 

Surfacing to light releases the weight and gives me a chance to breathe.

The Flavor of Light

Such a difference between the old school tungsten yellow light of wood lamps with dirty glass compared to the modern salty white light of sodium vapor parking lot lamps. What colors the landscape that I see? Where does its flavor come from? Is it the source of light or the history of my mind?