A red door
with plate glass casements ’round
enclosing a deepened vestibule-
and shadows on white walls are bound.
bold-faced clouds that billow
into thunderstorms on Sundays-
woodland sunflowers that line
shadowed waterfront lanes.
a darkened rift of stars –
in wonder of their stillness,
yet know not what they are
it is the wind that blows from the shore
out to sea.
it is the light that steals from obscurity
it is the embrace of an onliest thing
it is the sum of these
that sways me on a quiet string.