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Survey​

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Do you look forward to the return of the dark?

I asked the librarian. They said “I like the return 

 

in Iceland, when the volcanos shut off.” Do you 

look forward to the return of the dark? I asked 

 

my marmoset. “No,” said my marmoset 

and bit my mouth. 

 

Do you look forward to the return of the dark?

“I live in the dark all year. I eat in dark waves 

 

of matter, sleep in dark, waning waves 

of shrimp. And when the shrimp are gone 

 

I eat the dark,” said the anglerfish. And when 

the dark is gone? “There is always more dark.” 

 

This felt true, so I didn’t press. Do you look forward 

to the return of the dark? “I keep my candle lit,”

 

said Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

Do you look forward to the return of the dark?

 

I asked a musician. “I do,” he said. “More time 

to practice viola without anyone noticing,”

 

secrecy being extremely important 

for viola. I had never heard him play

 

and knew I never would. Do you look forward 

to the return of the dark, when the year

 

is balanced in your hand, when its length

of gold-oil color slips like nettle

 

into water? I said to no one in particular 

as we were steadily now being clouded over

 

by the growing margin of the dark return.

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Liz Cambra is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Her poetry appears in Dunce Codex, Thrush, Two Serious Ladies, and others. Her chapbook Flora was published by dancing girl press in 2023.

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