Sun burns white hot
Through dissipating fog
Sets wildflowers ablaze
With its morning rays
Sonic beacon rendered mute
Its clarion calls to clarity
Invited cerulean hues
A day begun
In dour temper
Manifests its beauty
Sun burns white hot
Through dissipating fog
Sets wildflowers ablaze
With its morning rays
Sonic beacon rendered mute
Its clarion calls to clarity
Invited cerulean hues
A day begun
In dour temper
Manifests its beauty
“Too bad about the weather,” she says
I’m framing a photograph
Camera in hand though not to eye, just yet
“Yesterday was perfect
Bright and sunny
Not a cloud in the sky”
I like today just fine, I tell her
As a frame begins to form in my mind’s eye
“But it’s so dismal and grey!”
Blue skies at noon
Are a bright, empty smile
She looks at me, head tilted
It’s a sky without character, mood
The light falls straight down, casts no shadows
Still the look
It’s dull
“You prefer dour to dull?”
I do
“Perhaps that says more about you.”
I smile, and nod
Half because, perhaps, she’s right
And half because I’ve found the frame
Camera to eye … click
I show her the screen
“Oh! That’s beautiful!”