A Nap

Master Benny, the Baying Hound
I can get lost in the liquid amber of those soulful windows.

The dark tiger's eye. The liquid emotion. The thoughtful reverie.

So much blends away and disappears into the golden brown recesses.

I think I can see rainbows of chocolate and bark, peat and amber. Then more colors appear and fade away. Always in motion.

Feather-like, a blink. Momentarily interrupting our mutual meditation.

Slowly, flickering and then closed. Taking you momentarily into another realm. Time for a nap.