These windows let in light
Sparkling sunshine through glass
Sparking prisms on the floor
They shiver in their frames
Water streaked by morning dew
Forming striated patterns
Waiting for afternoon daylight
To welcome in the shadows
Painting corners of the room
With shades and tones in turn
This thick, bottle brushed glass
Unwieldy from the heated forge
Formed an eternity ago
Out of compressed sand and shale
An incomprehensible history
So alive in this impressive instant
Guarded against the shattering
That always comes in due time
Waiting for the impression
Frozen on its face at nightfall
Before the curtain falls down
All around its shoulders like hair
Shutting me out in the cold
While I long for a clarity
That only lives in dust.
Sam
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Wow. I really love this. I especially love the line that includes the title. I began Leaves In Fall. I don’t want to put it down!
Thank you so much for your thoughts. They mean so much to me. And I’m glad you’re enjoying the book so far!