In blue you are the shadow
of a drifting cloud across
the shrubbery and grass,
silent and feline in wind,
spacious in your breathing.
In gold your watery hair
duets with shafts of light.
Twiggy fingers gesture slightly,
the solemn sound of skies
softly slides away, repelled
from some shimmering bubble,
enmeshed on one side with
the minutiae of every motion,
on the other with translucence,
pooling permanence and universes.