By borrowed light I read about poetry
The wind tossed the trees and the rain bled down the street
The anxious thunder clapped hands
The light
The light spread its volumes inside my four walls
Illuminating the imperfections
Disguising all but the truth
A rising cancerous doubt
Brushed off the tablecloth like bread crumbs
We told ourselves we would be better.
M.
Color of outdoors blog 
Say anything.