Ephemeral View

I have learned after
approaching this
window often enough
that the view
beheld is ephemeral.

As clothes change
the impression
of what’s underneath,
mood shapes
each day’s perception.

Whether puddled with
shadows or
sliced by sunlight,
look again
and there is a robin.

No matter how long I
wait for the paint
to dry, its true self
will never be
lured to the surface.

But that is no excuse
for not noticing
the difference when I
hurry past with
a perfunctory glance.

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