Recently,
I have been pierced by the light that filters through the leaves
the shadows cast by sunbeams

Always shifting, never the same
as a second before.
Some edges sharp as a knife…

Others barely legible, but somehow understood.
Maybe this is the space between
not quite an imprint, almost a memory.

Every pulse visible here,
in the shadows. Every moment held,
in the angle of light.

Dependent on that big fiery orb
far, far away… yet close enough
to burn.

CV