Clouds Passing

little
clouds
passing
quickly
over the face of the sun,
sending light flashing down
through the windows

yellow light, then gray light,
then yellow, then gray,
both are equally beautiful

in the softly gleaming hallway
washed clean by those luminous days.

i think of those clouds
in the same sky that held
once, a fluttering heart betwixt the layers
of seven patterned curtains flitting in the breeze,

i cannot bring myself to decide
which is the more beautiful -
the yellow like a pastel stick
or the gray like tiny feathers -

the lighthouse calling into the night,
or the shadows that bloom at the sound of its voice.