No Grand Finale

[Twota]

A street light
About to die
Needs to be seen
For one last time.
It breathes in
The unsteady current--
And quivers,
Ever so lightly.
Impatient,
To begin the show,
Our hero
Takes a deep breath.
Incandescent, now,
Hunting for an audience.
A couple of eyes,
Or a distracted one,
Would be enough crowd--
For this dying sun.
But no eye was captured,
No ear was pricked,
When the strained filament
Popped
And burned to a crisp.