So often Colorado skies are a
Golden Age painting
with light illuminating
everything, clouds a subtle
frame for enriched blue skies,
sunlight filtering through haze
in the air from wind, and —

I pause at the red
light for a photograph
and linger like always, I
forget where I am
going or where
I have been until —

the car behind me beeps
their horn, and by the time
I stop at another light,
the light
has shifted
and the
moment is
gone.