Colors are deep
when the air
is newly rinsed
and light stands forth
as though sent
by a secret source
I think of you then,
your gentle hands,
your laughter,
and wonder where you are,
whether you'll return.
Masks you wore seem misty
veils inviting me to search.
I hid from you
in the glare of that
light, not wanting you
to know how much older
I am than you, inside.
Perhaps you found me out.