I LOVE THE LIGHT
I love the light that slants across the room
or slithers through the leaves of arching trees
or hangs like silence in the half-seen air.
It will not come when called. I have to wait
for it to find me on its own, and pause
to let me etch an image with my glass before it’s gone.
Quantum theory says
the act of observation must destroy
the evanescence of a photon wave
requiring it to splinter like a gang
of scattered geese.
I wonder if that’s why
the image that remains within my mind
Is so much sweeter than my pixel file.
Site © 2014 Nathan Dean