the quality of light seems <br />to be of great interest to me. <br />Within it I see change <br />of weather and season. <br />And February's only half-past, <br />but I see Spring <br />in the setting sun's rays. <br />Even if the days weren't getting longer <br />or the air didn't smell different, <br />the quality of light <br />would show the way. <br /> <br />Winter light is flat and pale, <br />thin as watered milk, <br />delicate as a spiderweb. <br /> <br />Summer light is full and bold, <br />brazen at the far end. <br /> <br />Autumn light is red and fading, <br />full of whispers of seasons past <br />and promises of what's to come. <br /> <br />But Spring is filled with new-wrought gold- <br />soft and pale on Winter's end, <br />built on the banked embers <br />of Autumn's red-gold fires, <br />and with Summer's unborn heat <br />to breathe life inside her, <br />Spring peeks shyly into the garden, <br />then boldly steps in with arms thrown wide. <br /> <br /> 2/18/07<br /><br />Toni Atchison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-quality-of-light-half-past-february/
