They say light is the fastest thing in the world.
But here the light moves slow,
it draws each shape with patience,
making every color delicate.
When done right, space is the opposite of emptiness.
There are the perfumed knits, the bowls of fruit, the interesting shadows.
I listen to the pine trees whistling,
the sky beyond them is my only measure of time.
Light bounces everywhere without control
But here the light is tame, it has found a home.
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