“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, January 19, 2019
Exhibiting
Funny thing is
like love,
and other sudden
appearances
One is easily taken up
with the obvious Now
and yet indescribable
Then
and
That
feeling of
reconciliation
along with a benevolent
contentment
arisen
impromptu
That is
the feeling
in the right place
at the right time
to see
differently
As in the gallery
where windows were mirrors
and so the first
reflection where I recognized
myself
captured and mute
yet framed this way,
in the best light
there was Time.
Image credited by BurgererSF [CC0], from Wikimedia Commons.
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