2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Two: The morning air is cool to the touch

At 150,000 miles
the sun appeared
a reddish dot
against an indistinct grey sky
its color a clever cover
for the furnace within

Bleary-eyed
and a bit numb
I drift through my morning routine
thinking of as little as possible
because I know what happens
when I start thinking

I tried to photograph the scene
but the sun literally paled
photographs, like memories
capture only so much
losing the rest
to what we wanted them to be

The morning air
is cool to the touch
I know that feeling too well
that’s what happens
when the hand is withdrawn
leaving the desire behind

(5 August 2017)

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