In Praise of Buried Light
︎︎︎ Michael Conner
︎ JUNE 28, 2022
For Evelyn
An opaline dewdrop falls
from the canopy to the dirt below because
the buried seed needs you
to breathe, to bloom.
Corn sugar and soy isolate
in the baby formula. We do
what we have to do because
your mother has to go back to work.
Some nights, roaches
crawl out of the shower drain.
You’ve started smiling when you see
our faces float into the room.
Elbow-deep, down
in the dirt, we dug up a buried light
I’ve been waiting to be blinded by
for my entire life.
An opaline dewdrop falls
from the canopy to the dirt below because
the buried seed needs you
to breathe, to bloom.
Corn sugar and soy isolate
in the baby formula. We do
what we have to do because
your mother has to go back to work.
Some nights, roaches
crawl out of the shower drain.
You’ve started smiling when you see
our faces float into the room.
Elbow-deep, down
in the dirt, we dug up a buried light
I’ve been waiting to be blinded by
for my entire life.
Michael Conner is a writer from South Florida. His work is predominantly concerned with contemplative spirituality, climate collapse, and trying to navigate the two as a father, husband, and community member. His non-fiction work can be seen in Tenderly Magazine, poetry in Shambles Literary and Poet's Choice anthology on cancer.