Every droplet of rain is a droplet of sunlight;
the windows are a million suns flowing down;
light is shining from under our feet, from the roofs
and pavements, streets and windscreens.
Then you pass, and as nets might overflow with fish,
you hair is sunlight right down to backs of your knees.
This is a memory.
A momentary event like a meteorite crossing the sky
which I have elevated to sacredness in my mind,
for a mind needs its torches,
it needs its flares.
No comments:
Post a Comment