In this dappled mountain clearing
Razor light captures the tiniest joys.
A flicker of leaf
floats to the forest floor.
Insect wings sparkle pink, then blue,
then disappear in flight once more.
Magic in the morning.
Maybe half-light brings its blessings,
hard baked truths no more to teach,
but here in filtered shafts of sunlight,
moments glisten into speech.
Sharonne Price 2017