postcard to the sun
heart to sun
its fire heating my core
I warm to what’s star in me
consumed, consuming
thinning into flares that sometimes
destroy the neighborhood
Tag: sun
SPF infinity
SPF infinity
the middle-aged cashier gives
the inevitable antipodal greeting:
How ya goin’?
all business in her short sensible haircut
and utilitarian bifocals
she scans things quickly
leaves them on the belt
for us to pack ourselves
then suddenly stops
seizes a bottle
looks at it quizzically
What’s this? she says
and I almost answer
it’s sunscreen
before I catch the twinkle
in her eye
We’re feeling optimistic
I say weakly
while rain lashes the store windows
but she just smiles
and shrugs
little bang
little bang
13 billion years ago
there was almost less than nothing
no time
no space
emptiness so empty
we can’t fathom it
then
the singularity
three minutes later
most of everything that will be was
in a universe flying apart
later lit
by flaming nuclear stars
tiny phosphorescent dots
in a great black sea of vacuum
46.75 years ago
I was in the same empty void
then
two little cells fused
and we’ve all been reacting ever since
today on the deck
in a brief bit of sun
between snow showers
I face Sol
close my eyes
soak in the energy
until my lids are fired
and all my internal screens
have gone burnt-orange-quiet
feeling that heat for a moment
I believe
I’m as undeniably here
as that rascal sun
baking on the boat ramp
baking on the boat ramp
in not-quite-spring
when the world is more
white than green
and the campground gates
still slumber
you and I
find a steep bit of sun
make ourselves stars
or corpses
either way
we bake on the boat ramp
like dough on stone
letting the photons
wave their way
into our bodies
to cook out the cold
keep death at bay
put some Vitamin D
-elight into each
preoccupied cell
