Toby by the Sofa

Your hand intruded
like a careless bird one day
into that block of sun
tipping over the sofa, and you paused
in your work to see
it so changed.

On a hunch you drew back the
hand -- that went dark,
the hand that -- flapped now
(for you knew now)
flashing – flickering -- bright fat bird
in furious flight -- before
returning to
your business
of moments,
little scientist of shade and light.