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