Avenues of glare, a glass of sun

magnifies, until it’s a focal point;

white with intimate heat,

each inch of detail brightened,

enlivened by unforgiving light.

 

Where once we hid away in days,

city-slickened and caught fast,

in circular motions we taught

ourselves to build hours around,

now, stillness walks a slow descent.

 

There is nothing left to estimate

no room for interpretation,

soloists in languor, patience

no longer a choice, open-faced,

at home with our reflections.