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Sunstruck

 

After Sandor Weores

 

The sun scatters light with abandon

          on the bare hayfield,

straight-as-arrow rays, resolute in common purpose.

          Yes: that’s the sun.

 

You and I too should beam so recklessly

          on traffic, on strip malls, the rare and throbbing

bee hive, on icebergs nodding till they turn

          belly up, green glass underside in polar sea.

 

To open from far up there, to just send your light out for years

          until you hit land, until you casually stir

up a hurricane, until you light up such corners of human life

          without regard for what it is we illuminate.
 
 
 

Mary Harpin is a poet and content marketing writer. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Crab Creek Review, Juked, Terrain, Fourteen Hills and elsewhere. She is at work on a nonfiction project with Pen Parentis about the lives of writers who are also parents. Read more at maryharpin.com.