Bright

Describe it:
Lucid
Conscript it:
Flashlight
Be it:
Shutter

The it is where
The road goes
When it has no
Bricks left

Objects vanish
At the point of
None may well
Return, with space

And mornings
Interceding on
The half cup of
Lukewarm coffee

Pottering over to 
The edge of a 
Three legged
Table