Sunbeam shining on dust motes...

A drifting aura of mica speckles;

I tentatively extend my fingertips into the cascade of light...

Then my fingers,

Arms, Neck, Cheek, Lips.

I close my eyes and bask in the warmth...tender.

I shiver, and in that moment the light is gone.

And I, once bathed golden, ache for the sun again.

- Andi Yoder (11-15-1999)