a passing moment
the glory of a red sun
poured onto the world
some reflect and some absorb
a few are even transformed
a passing moment
the glory of a red sun
poured onto the world
some reflect and some absorb
a few are even transformed
the sound of rainfall
on the fringe of consciousness –
snow melting from roof
cold November night
the full moon glowing brightly
no time to linger

sunlight through window
only reaches this corner
a few times each year