Porch Light at Midnight

Coiling night fog, and spider webs of dew,
like unshed tears,
reflect innumerably
the lights of my concrete
front porch. Such
accurate and attentive
swags.

In precise curves,
strands of pale moths small
as seed pearls flail
unserviceable wings.

Diamonds, and frail dust-
such desperate pearls, such captive tears-
such
symmetry-

Spider-work garlands
curtain, elaborate,
but not contain,
the formless dark
out in my garden, just ahead of me.