This morning, my son
has a conversation
with the sun.
He - a round baby human
behind cloth and cold window.
She - a golden flame
behind blue earth and snow.
He sings and coos,
while she in her brilliance,
peek-a boos.
Infinite light - it hums within all things. Even the darkest eggs eventually crack, spilling white and yellow. So when you meet or confront ...
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