Glass Ceilings and Swirling Dust and Sunshine

Spend some time 

Thinking about sunlight

How it filters through windows

Leaving warm golden squares

On the thick carpet and

Creep up the walls as

Dusk approaches

When I was little

I was enamored by the patterns

Of the dust in the air

I would wipe the dusty spines

Of adult books in the rays

To watch it swirl 

Exhale into the light

To watch the dancing particles

And in the winter I would

Find these squares and

Sit in them until they

Moved away with the sunset

And for completely different

Reasons, my other name was

Sunshine

I didn’t know it then but

I must have felt connected

When I first went to college I

Would spend time in

The cafeteria

Which had corners with glass

Ceilings and soft chairs

Always the best seats 

So rare to find one free

And I was worn down so much

So beaten by existence

Even with a sharp wind outside

Beneath the grubby arch of glass

All was calm and warm there

All was well

I don’t live there anymore

I am so far from the same person

But this room doesn’t get golden rays

I am hard pressed to find them at all

Except on spring afternoons

Or when I’m out in the day

There’s a lot of depth and shadow here

Not as bad as it seems

I imagine I have just been

Searching for my past lights