fleeting

[to Paul, to the Mono Hills, and to the sunrise we failed to photograph]

At seventeen seconds to dawn the fronds
Of sunlight grow at an alarming rate,
Drinking long draughts from the cup of expectation;
Gaining a brilliance
White.

White
like - the moment
Almost unseen;
Snatched and consumed
By the darkness of eclipsed sight.

by Adrian Hoad-Reddick

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