Friday Poem:Winter Morning

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On certain clear sky
winter mornings
the late-rising sun
shines clear across
where I sleep –
bursts through
the eastern window
bright on to the curtain
of the window
opposite.

The shadows cast themselves
from trees and leaves
and feathers on dream-catchers –
blown by the rising wind
leaf shadows
dance:
a morning puppet show.IMG_20160709_094218

The photo at the top is of those shadows, dancing on the curtain. The second pic is the feathers on a dream catcher – made for me by my son’s partner, Janina, and finally – a spectral shadow of flowers from when bright sunshine was split into its component colours by a piece of faceted glass. I think I have at least one in every window on the sunny sides of our house.

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