roachlike

as nature’s crowbar cracks the morning open,
do I crowd midnight’s remnant corners?

am I to be found fawning at the back of barren cupboards,
daring time for one more unseen hour?

is the hollow where I burrow destined to be uncovered
at the next gash in the moon?

as the universe is clobbered into halves,
am I as well?

or perhaps I flutter simply, darkness harnessed, contrary to the roach