SUN

It is the middle of a sunny summer day.

I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,
with my neighbours following me.

We all want to see the Sun.
It just fell down in the front yard.

I saw it coming down, 
like an overripe cantaloupe,
staining the sky
with sticky, succulent golden juices.

There it is,
lying on the ground,
a giant orange,
flattening the grass it landed on,
squirting its warm essence
all over our bodies.

The neighbourhood dogs
are running around,
barking at this strange visitor.

I approach it warily.
I touch it.
It is warm and beautiful,
glistening in the mid-noon light.

I remember well feelings of
amazement, incredulity, inexplicable joy
overwhelming me,
and the comical expressions of confusion
on the faces of my neighbours.

Read this month’s issue