Addicted to Light Coincidences

Rare, in a rainy climate,
But some summer days, the sun
Gets shut off by the mountains

With such perfect, stony-edged
Precision of an evening,
You can watch the honey burn

The wall in full golden glare
Then close down like flared feathers
Settling back to humble gray.

Just in that moment it’s gone,
Gold all evaporated.
It’s a small thing to watch this,

Small luck to catch it at first,
But then you want to see it
Next night and next, it’s that fine.