Look Here's Another Hour

You recall the airy flavor
Of an old day, one from childhood,

When you glance out now at porch chairs,
At return of relentless light,

The colors bleached to full-spectrum,
Somehow all-white light. Give you time.

Give you space to sit and take it
In, a roller of a line raced

Ahead of the rest of the text,
One roller that never makes it

All the way to dissolve on shore.
If everything tomorrow were

Removed from its thoughts, from the mind,
And the day grew open-ended,

Endlessly more open-ended,
And your thoughts only grew with light.