Bewitched by shadows

Early morning, driving by, 

After a long, gray rainy period, 

The sun’s come out, 

And I’m bewitched by the shadows. 

It’s not just the light our tired eyes need, 

Exhausted from the effort 

 Of distinguishing between all the grays; 

The shadows, too, assuage a thirst 

For clarity, for ease, for contrast, 

For clear causality, and for the echoes of beauty

To make a wider mark across the land.