illumination.

And now the shapes,
Of the fuchsia flowers...
Touched by the light,
Feels changed.

In the barn,
A beam does glide...
Falls free and thick,
On the floor.

Shadows gather,
Watching me dream...
Ochre sunsets,
Tinged by the sun.

Bottles reflect,
What the glass can’t see...
Mirror images,
Obscure light.