Photographer’s Light
Announces itself, fashionably late,
an hour after dawn, dressing
objects in a pristine shade of gold,
edges defined blade sharp.
Every color shouts “I am!”
Race to grab the camera,
or miss a bird feeder gem,
blazing elm, or horizon’s gilded
cumulus.
Cats love this hour: tucked beneath
a part-opened garage door, soaking
rays, watching the world parade by
like subjects before a queen.
One click, then load images
into my computer, where commands
can enhance, saturate, sharpen, deepen.
Inside, my hand poises mid-air. Do
I want to compete with God’s colors?
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