This poem should actually be called "written in the dark," but a eureka/heuristic connection got the better of me. I haven't posted a poem in awhile, a long while, so why not a handwritten draft, scribbled out while I was in-between sleep and sort-of awake. Interestingly--to me at least--the poem wound up a fourteen liner. I suppose that, when I finally figure out how to spell "goverment" correctly, it'll be a sonnet for Spicer. This one just came out of nowhere, wrote itself.