The
Sun
The sun,
An egg yolk slipping
Down the side of a
plate
In the colored sky
Its buttery softness
Slowly slinking away
Behind the mountains
It shines its last burst of light
In the faces of people in
Their cars driving home
From work
Its brightness lets kids
Finish a game of
Soccer before their mom
Calls them in for dinner
Its last warmth soothes
Your bare shoulders
On a summer night
Big, Beautiful, Sun
