a trick-of-the-eye
not for blinding by
but rather for seeing clear

cornered glimpses
share delicate promises
hidden years seen from afar

march in stately cadence
drawing the lens awry

the dreamer’s slow rousing
and languid opening
gazes on possibilities drifting by

to tumbling streams
which leave glistening clean,
the boulders over which they fall

while twigs and leaves
on rapid currents twist and turn
and fear not what lies at the end