In the window and the doorway

Chasing the beams of light

and seeking

their origin. Each beam

unique

but the same

stretching further

and further to a

new home. My arms

suddenly alligator arms

shorter

pulling back

retracting as I reach

but

my arms to short to grasp

I loose the grip

my fingers have

and chase another

beam. Where do

they come from

each beam

showing dust

as it drifts across the room

to settle

and in reaching

short alligators arms limiting the reach

to not touch.

I chase them always

but catch them now or ever, never.