In between the spaces, more spaces.
How light falls here. But not here.
And how shadows have their own words
for things even time cannot explain –

Here it ends. Here it begins again.
Here it ends. And so on.

We can learn a lot from the language of light.
Photographs are always misleading,
that is why we love them.

What looks like an edge, a beginning, a story
is nothing more than a wish for something
that has passed.

We cannot hold on to much anyway.
I learnt this late on in the day.
What sounds like a shout could be a victory,
the yell of defeat, or nothing at all.

Light falls here, and here. Darkness, shadow.
Everything the air touches is right and true

“How Light Falls” Copyright © 2012 by Naomi Woddis

Naomi is a British writer, photographer and radio presenter. She has been Poet in Residence at Culpeper Community Garden, Islington, London, United Kingdom.