A quaint light
that bore no frenzy fire,
A feeble hope
Like a speck
of cinder dust
A magical trick,
Though not an illusion,
A vision beheld for a splitday.
Like coffee froth
popping upon conception
It was a flashing beam
A fluorescing midnight dream
Millennial ray gun of heat and bliss
Quaint, nearly invisible
A spark and nothing more.