A gift.

This is a gift,
And it comes with a price,
She said.
Who is the darkness,
And who is the light.
Breathe carefully,
You're holding my last cache captive.
My simple faith and real release
Both dance just at my fingertips.
I see it everywhere, you know.
A sack-clothed figure stooped over a bus bench,
A gold and crimson flash.
He crooks a narrow finger at me
And I keep shaking and smiling my head away.
I breathe carefully.
Keep watch closely.
February's crows beat their black wings at my doorstep
But I keep my hands clean.