So many feelings
in the air before the dawn
in the ether of the moment.
They drift in front of me
slow as ducks in a shooting gallery.
I stretch out my arm,
	  close my hand,
and pluck a white, translucent orb
from the open air.
As I eat one and then another, 
color gives rise to color
and I wonder how each can look the same.


"Here, have one.  What's this one do for you?"


						Brandywine
						9/30/95