Old King Sol

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On the first true frigid Winter day of the season, I noticed my neighbor’s sad drooping sun flag. It was a beautiful sunny day…blue skies, no clouds. But despite the bright golden sunlight, the air cut through me like a knife. I wondered…is the golden orb I presume to be the sun an imposter? Like my neighbor’s faded sun flag, has the sun checked out? This is how my monkey brain churns the world around me. Now you have a glimpse of how I came to write this poem…:)

Old King Sol
has lost his soul
No Midas touch
No warming glow.
A lame imposter’s
frigid glare now
Hangs pathetic
frost on air!
Seems old Sol
has slipped away
on migratory holiday.
Here left to weather
winter’s sting
we hang our hope
on this one thing…
that Sol remembers
us, come Spring.

kat ~ 5 January 2015


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