What is seen in passing, every night on display? A dot-connecting puzzle, To some, leading the way. In terms of ladles, double. Glowing flecks of paint, a spray. Which one are you labeled as? Just read the scope, see what they say.

I’m a house with walls of light, where summer lives through winters bite.

You can see me in Miami, you can see me at a show. You can see me breathe through one hole and use the same one to blow.

No salt upon my quiet skin, no tides that pull the shores within. I hold the sky in still embrace, while hills and forests frame my face.

I chase the horizon, I burn bright but never fall, I vanish yet leave a mark in minds.