A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
He squints out through the window in the backseat
At the dazzling array of lights.
He narrows his eyes and widens them again,
Controlling and shaping the image of the lights beyond
And the trails they leave behind.
As he watches and paints from within his carriage
He realizes he’s found
A pocket in time
That looks on to the world outside
Through light itself
Rather than just with it.