There are reflections

There are reflections

In every window

Each one holds a truth

Waiting to be seen

From the other side

There was a picture

Hanging on the wall

Above the bed

I see it now

Caught in suspension

The image not certain

Framed by the curtain

In this light

I am transported

To a place a used to know

When I was part

Of the arrangement

It was not a still life

There was fluidity

Of movement

Even now

As the light fades

The sun a delicate shade

Of yellow

It paints a bedroom

Softly

In keeping with

The magic

In the moment.