How you depict changing light. How your face
reflects it, accentuates day fading,
returning with light. How your eyes can trace
starlight, entrancing all, then evading
other eyes. How motion of your raised head,
your flexed bare arms create crucial tension,
lessons of your mood. Hours ago, I read
how brief brush strokes create light’s suspension
on canvas, allow its grace evolving
as day moves to night. Moves like your graceful
hand combing your hair, fingers resolving
each shining strand’s place. How my mind’s space full
of your impression alters like light, sway
of your smile like morning sun to Monet.
Roger Armbrust
September 23, 2014
