My God Is the Sun

Leathered skin, brown and rough

Hot hair; sweat beads on furrowed brow

Squinted stares behind tinted glass

Ice cream cones and popsicles and shaved ice

Flat bikini stomachs and macho posturing

Running kids laughing; carefree

Blankets on grass under shaded trees

Bees and wasps and ants scurrying to and fro

Soak up the sun; cancerous rays with joyous smiles

Beholden in its beauty; revel in its slow crawl of death

We all just worship the sun

 

©Ramon Sturdivant

 

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