In this mood
things become more defined:
the silver sugar bowl, beyond reflective,
becomes the collection of objects around it;
the shadows between the fruit in the bowl
as dark and mysterious as those in a forest;
scale somehow immaterial; detail precise.
Colours become experiences: I look inside red
as I’d look into the flow of a river; browns
have the richness of burnished mahogany,
a grain within the colour, a dynamic.
Reaching for the sugar, I watch my hand, from mid-arm,
travelling over the table like a boat heading out to sea.
It seems my eyes are sucking out my energy;
creating this crisp perception from my concrete,
leaving me in darkness amongst the brilliance of things.
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