when trains rumble up and out
of the great tunnels
they leave behind a little light
in the darkness
it’s never altogether blind in there,
every 100 feet or so,
a little glowing bulb.

and when those bulbs
have glowed their last,
I’m the guy who changes them,
I’m the bringer of a little light
into great darkness,

which is a little weird and,
perhaps a waste

for if a rail needs rerailing
or a ceiling needs resealing
they bring huge spot lights
bright enough to daylight midnight

they bring ’em on flat cars
with lights on their helmets
and lights in their hands.

So, what’s the good of my little bulbs
in that buried deep black hole?

Well, maybe a world weary
passenger stares into his window
finding metaphors and symbols
shining dimly in the dark…

or, at the very least,
my path is lit
by lights I lite

and that, to me
is fine enlightenment…