soft
enough for naked eyes
gently
suffusing without penetrating
never
bright enough to burn
creating
shadows, but indistinctly
indirect,
yet with great influence
nurturing
but not through outer strength
safe
and good for pregnant mothers
stroking
fondly all their children
fair
with any given color
obscuring
lines and blending shades
neither
hopeless nor full of warmth
filling
spaces without shining
where
calm silence finds its home
harboring
simple quiet patience
shadowed
refuge from the heat
teasing
images from vaguest forms
washed
to blue by December
providing
hints of untold stories
pallid
background for depression
casting
shadows on dying faces
though
always there for a canvas
supporting
fully only faintest hope
created
without morning rays
leaving
soonest with the twilight
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