Lamplighter

What good is the lamplighter

when all the lamps have been lit?

he used to caress 

the turn of their brass

he used to lift the little latch

swing back the leaded glass

and touch his wick to their oil

watch as the night boiled

from the both of them,

the lantern, and him

the shadows drew back with a hiss

but all the lamps are lit

and the houses lump

together brown and warm

in the hollow between the hills;

now he sits drinking his days 

in spills

and spends his evenings

in the dark

alone 

with only his spark.