It’s in the shading.

It’s the way the light is written.

It’s the way the observer takes it all in.

It’s the way it convinces one that the world will last.

It’s the way it plants a seed in the mind,

the way it touches one inside, lives inside

the streets of memory, inhabits one’s emotional house,

sunsets, harbors, all the great perfect things

that exists in the brief eternity that loop eternally,

that convinces one that the extraordinary

is the purpose of existing in ordinary time,

that every moment lives for the perfect still life.