Lying beneath the sun,
Catching its flow on the edge of darkness,
In the outer drips of time, space and those occurrences;
Before the morning can begin its stride into another day,
We watch as if a liquid were poured from inside it, gathering in a pool below,
Seeing it bending from the cylinder shape,
And placing its own stand to sit upon, a frame, a mirror, making it all work together.
Ralph Peck
Photograph by Jerry Spears
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