The Sun

The day of the solar eclipse our 4th grade class
made pinhole cameras from Pringles cans.
Miss Smith warned us to use the tube as our eye:
Your retina is delicate, fragile;
if you look at the sun, it will blind you forever!

But how was this possible—the sun
that polished the rungs of the jungle gym,
touched down on the hopscotch squares,
the butterscotch bowl, and the windowsill
where potatoes sprouted in glass?
When she told us a new century would come
before we’d ever witness such a sight,
I shivered, though it was May, with lilacs
blooming in my crayon drawings, the sun
stationed safely at the top of every page.

Jennifer Markell’s first book of poetry, Samsara, has been accepted for publication by the Turning Point imprint of WordTech Communications (2014). Her poems have been published in journals nationally and internationally, including The Aurorean (Featured Poet), Consequence, Rhino, The Women's Review of Books (forthcoming), and Poetry from Sojourner, A Feminist Anthology. Her poetry has been displayed at Boston City Hall, and she was selected to read her work at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.