Wells Tower, “Light: The Sky Kind”:
The sunlight is fairly vermilion now. A Welsh corgi, sprinting from the shadows into a jag of light, looks suddenly oxidized. Populations of joggers, walkers and cyclists appear on the asphalt path that runs along the levee’s ridge. A woman in a wheelchair is cruising so athletically that the terrier lashed to the chassis is having a hard time keeping up. Ladies and gentlemen spread out blankets in the short weeds. A jogger runs past me. Some of the light has spilled onto her neoprene shorts. I would like to have a conversation with her, but the only thing I can think to say is, “Your ass is hurting my feelings.”
