There!
And again,
there!

In an icy forests darkness,
akin to blindness,
or eyes squeezed shut for fear
of something,
stalking near,

a flicker.

Firefly?

Fairy?

Just ahead,
a shape shifter glimmer
floating forward
or, as easily,
circling me around
on a merry-go-round
of root snared boot
and branch lash.

But the dim light is all.

So,
arms reach out,
fingers stretching as cat whiskers,
I follow on.
Until, just higher on the next hill,
a faint glowing!

A bulb?
On a back porch?

Of the house prepared for me.

I chase the glimmer
to the light above the door,
surprised to find it
unlocked
when I turn the nob,
to feel,
as it swings open,
the warming friendly fire
from a wood stocked stove.

The little glimmer I followed here,
flits back into the night.
Its task for me is finished.

It searches for another,
lost,
to tempt,
home.