Zings of beauty provide luster when luster is needed. Happiness when you are feeling a bit down. Intrigue when your job offers none.

These zings are fleeting so that they can be done again and still offer their impact.

One glows more than the rest and that is the soul? What of the rest? Have they no souls? Is the property of having a soul simply true for the brightest in the bunch? What of the rest? Maybe they have too dim of a soul to be considered by this poet…

This is an interesting poem, and one thing sticks hard in my mind: some things are fleeting so they don’t lose their effect.