The screen door cut the evening light
as it passed through the wire mesh
and left shiny bits littered on the floor.

Paul rolled around on them
thinking they would stick to his sweaty body
and brighten his mood.

But those bits of light
migrated ant-like to Dora’s studio
and took their place in a paint pot.

Paul imagined placing a screen
over an abandoned mine entrance
so the segmented light would refill the shaft with gold.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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