Wednesday, June 15, 2011

A Poem: The Sun at One O'Clock

Found in the memory of that day,
Is a moment, a point in time when
The sun stood still,
A precise moment when the sun,
Suspended at one o'clock, expanded in sky
And became, of itself, eternity.

All color was washed out
By the brightness that is sun.
At the sea wall, painted with graffiti
And cracked by quake some years before,
Fishermen stood, still as statues, tribute
To the reality of sun's substance and sustenance.
The sea became glass that slowly rolled,
Brighter than bright, and the whiteness of gulls,
That whiteness that is not white, became shadow
Then vanished into all that is sun.

In that moment day was consumed
By everything sun, the sun
Turning back on itself, announcing
And echoing an immeasurable This -
The precise moment when
The sun was at one o'clock.

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