in your eyes, the sun is dazzling white, the wind shifts your scarf, blows through the gaps of your coat. for me, nothing shines or moves...

Time pursues time and light comes up behind light. One sun follows another – each circle of bright ringed by a dark corona. But when eternity eclipses time and the sun is Malevichian black, the corona will be for us a light of white – the whitest light.

Late October Afternoon: A Weak Watery Sun -- Not What it Was But Not Dead Yet.