Afterimage

a shadow in the corner of your sight;

a splash of color when your eyes are closed;

a brightness without any source of light;

a misty cloud that hovers like a ghost.

memory of light that recent shone,

painted on a canvas inward turned,

pictures as if etched upon a stone,

past and present under eyelids burned.

moments that were brightest carry on,

little bits of color that remain.

kindling for poetry and song,

all the things our eyes and hearts retain.

the afterimage: such a little thing,

recycled light projected into space.

it’s equal parts of beauty and of sting:

the afterimage of another time, another place.