A pale beam slants through streaked dirty glass
by Cora H.
· 04/02/2026
Published 04/02/2026 16:05
A pale beam slants through streaked, dirty glass,
refracting soft whispers of days long past.
Outside, the world glows, but I’m stuck in this haze,
the sun filtered, faded, through cluttered malaise.
Time slides like grease on these narrow panes,
memories slide back with the light's small refrains.
It’s a muted connection, a view through a veil,
dust motes float languid, and I feel the stale trail.