When Lucas turned the corner that
mild spring morning he turned into
a jar. His facets turned into facets capturing
the morning sun although he himself
focused upon cobwebs previously in-
visible stretched between a grey iron pole and a
brick warehouse, erratic filaments
wavering in the warm morning sun. Lucas
was a rainbow on the shelf, walking home. Mrs.
Column fished for stamps on the shelf
over her head. Subscriptions are her hobby
just as reflective walks tickled Lucas. This one
was a renewal. Perhaps that was her hobby,
renewal, just as the shine on Lucas was a byproduct
of his own hobby, noticing the shine on cobwebs.
In a hurry searching for stamps, Mrs. Column brushed
Lucas' cut-glass neck and knocked him over.
Oh dear, she sighed, here comes the
mailman.