I don’t know if that’s
good or bad because the sun
is pretty beautiful
i mean it can be calming,
when it wants to be like
summer and rivers and salty dust
left in the night sky as it fires down the mountains flaming
angrily because it can’t stay
and it’s sometimes too young to realize
it has been old enough to come back for the next morning
mornings when i get to drink my hazelnut
crème coffee, mornings when I get to see you
out on the dreary cracked pavement
mourning mornings, mornings when I can just
let

it


go
and not bottle it up anymore
mornings when the light isn’t shining quite
yet because technically it’s still twilight
and just don’t try, don’t try
to paint with me, my horsehairs are glue
and I’m blue
instead of that
hearty gold