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By John I. Blair

Somewhere down the block
Equipment has exploded.

Sitting at my desk I yelp;
Iím plunged in blackness;
The familiar room is gone

And Iím cut off
From the seeing world I know,
Clueless for a moment.

Step by halting step
I find my way
Into the kitchen

Where a dim glow
From a storm light
Has guided me.

Then I start the search
For candles, holders, matches,
Anything to fight the night.

I feel like Prometheus,
Fire bringer,
If only for myself.

At this hour
Light for others
Seems beyond my power.

But once the flames are lit
I think of others I might help;
And then Prometheus I truly am.

©2019 John I. Blair, 6/29/2019≠

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