the light enduring  

It hardly bears saying 
that my life is dreamed.
What else could it be, 
the puddling of moments that 
flash like fish under sparkling 
water, on their way somewhere 
unfathomed or fleeing the threat 
that sentience spawns, moments 
like blue-sky autumn reflections 
in a receptive lake, clearer mirrored 
than when first encountered, 
dissolving and brimming, sloshing with 
the shudder of what’s below. 

It’s the way the light strikes 
to reveal a version of what’s there and 
what’s not there now, a fleeting spatter, 
only the light enduring, speculating, 

© MMWms 2020

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Landing Page for write 31 days – dreamscape