What Frames Are

While you’re on your next jag
On the end of the world,
Here’s a framed thought on light—

Next time you get full sun,
If you can, in your neck
Of our spun rock, check out

The light that floods a room,
And the same light, same source,
Through those skies out of doors.

Does the light in the room
Seem a bit more, a bit
Of gold poured through a frame,

But light on the far side,
Once you’re out there, seem plain?
Just like that, the world ends.