Tricks of the light

For the Daily Inkling prompt ‘latent image‘.

 

Hat on the sofa

or cat well-loved now gone?

Shadows beneath the chair

stretch like a waking dog,

silent in his ghost sleep.

Trees bend and sway,

and people dart between the trunks,

faces peer from bus windows

stopped at the lights

then gone—was it?

Should ever you go,

how would I bear this world

when every footstep on the path, clearing of the throat,

quick laughter, shout of greeting,

every hollow, bend in the road,

face in the crowd, trick of the light,

every cloud, leafy bough, every moonshadow,

every constellation balancing on the roof of the sky

is yours?