Yellow Dynamite-
Painting Canvas Golden Brown
Shared Firecracker.
Our Sun.
it's the same sun, i think to myself, dreaming,
while watching it set from a window, drifting,
people enjoying the late afternoon below
and i'm wondering what it looks like,
from kabul, from fallujah - from anywhere -
several hours earlier, on the other side
of the globe. what was the sky like?
was it golden tawny summertime brown?
did wind whip through white clouds, a late
afternoon, kites and footballs and laughter
sharing space through thin air? i'd like to know.
do people have time to notice sinking tangerines
while watching for car bombs, for airstrikes,
for snipers, for kidnappers, for soldiers?
it's a question i can't answer. because i'm
here, watching my sun - their sun - our sun
drop like a flaming beachball into the land.
it's a different life, seen through so many
different pairs of eyes. eyes i can't imagine.
but i wonder. because it's the same sun.
+++
thoughts on setting stars.