Diagraming the Sentence
Our subject is light.
Modified by the stained glass window
and the silt-gray puddle beyond the porch where sparrows come to bathe.
Our predicate is searches.
No modifier — there are no limits
to the longings of light.
Our object is understood,
meaning we have no words
for what light seeks,
but we can feel our way;
we know how light likes to dance with the world — co-conspirator, co-conjuror, the original sweet whisperer
of nothings.
Ours, then, could be called a simple sentence. Nothing
to compound our seeker, who (unknown to her) is a creature herself
of light. No relative clauses. No infinitives to split, no participle left
to dangle.
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