The Sun Appears
The sun appears on emerald fields
and coughing stops in hospitals
as patients look at the day that was saddled
and sent stepping from the owners gate.
Bending like a blade for hours
only is a cream of light that falls
on page and waking face. If I could but wind
it round my arm I might toss away
shadows that trouble hidden sores
and make rain on cheeks where none
should pour. I give my light away.
When its contents sink in them
like diamonds yielding to the deep
of folding waves, I'll trail
strangers who dreamed of being filled
and find myself, poor of light,
--Charles Bane Jr.