Sun in My Eyes This Morning   If the sun was better                                               at remembering sky it'd be midday sooner. But light is feeling it's way around. It's in my face, on the rose, like something too dumb to choose.   Sun's either lazy or an ass. What's the point of being hot as flame when time's what fiddles with the thermostat.   It burns the skin before it makes it beautiful. It kills the flower because it just can't stop at red.   I've prepared a place for it at the very peak of the heavens. And still it's at this disagreeable angle, dumbstruck by what it wakens.      - John Grey