afternoon light

Everyday around four the sun finds a place in between buildings, at a perfect south western angle that allows it to pour directly through my windows. Its a rich afternoon light, not a blue and lemon morning recipe. I would say that it has a butterscotch thinned with the milk of babies eyes flavor.
It comes every day that there is no overt New Yorkish cloud cover. It is always a surprise. Its main real estate encompasses the shapes the windows cut for it, but its reign is larger. It spreads a luminance that hits the paintings like lasers on fine cut jewels.
...as though it knows they are here waiting to show there true meanings, their real colors in its bath. Waves or particles, I won't quibble. I'll take them all, like a lover with many faces.