Mother says “don’t look at the sun, it will blind you”
so I don’t look at her.
I orbit the past, a seething mass of nuclear energy.
Sunspots float before my mind:
swimming in the pool, splashing in the sea, going to the library
eating Easter chocolate nests, plum puddings at Christmas,
gingerbread men and
now and then éclairs
Once I saw a solar eclipse
your edges suddenly clear and crisp,
burning strength into our bones.
But it was over all to quickly
and my vision blurred.
Then I confess I found you lost
convinced we had gobbled you up
so many of us always wanting, needing,
asking, pleading, bleeding dry your store of selfless love.
Yet you never burn out, you never burn up.
Doubtless we could search to the ends of the earth
for something you would not do for us
but why waste time?
The sun keeps shining and never will die.