A fine resolution

Focused on your texture, a fine resolution,
I lose sight of your entirety.

Viewing a small picture, a miniature illusion,
I miss all the strokes of your scenery.

Concentrated on this shadow, a lovely mingling of grey,
I do not perceive your contrasting tones.

Content with this one crescendo, a bright and golden ray,
I notice not that I am alone.

Hidden in the shade, a thin translucent curtain,
I choose to see what I wish only.

Making a trade, a fool’s desperate bargain,
I deceive myself quiet easily.



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