In a swiveling chair, the black and white images of light to the west, are reflections of mind in a humming machine. Turning a head, there is a closed window, showing an energetically inspired pen the nearing sunset.
                                                Moon swept itching dark
                                             Twilight, sunrises curtain
                                                   pink lids - open eyes

With a blink of instaneous awakeness and sleep, the neck turns fast, to look for inspiration.
                                                    Dusk - apart painted
                                              eight queued paired mare and foal
                                                     foliage lined dark black
Without my sister's presence, the filmed horse's birth is only an image, lost. Indeed, it's the shadows of sunlight that have lit up the southerly tree with darkness!