The Red Sun
blazes some new
truth – you fill
yourself up on
its hot-wet flow.
Turn, to walk away – wise
as your skin peels, flakes
away – like ash – nothing
but extra weight, you say.

The hair
on your head singes,
turns dark blue, slips
from your scalp,
strand by strand. Nothing
but aggravation, you say.

Your lips
start to tremble, puff
like popcorn, drop
away – nothing,
useless anyway, you
think. You have gained
wisdom – Everything
anyway, you think – Until

a cold voice blows by you,
moves you with a truer truth.
Nothing — it’s nothing – says
the shivering whisper
as you watch the red sun
fall dark from the sky
and the keeper of wisdom
laughs
aloud in the air,
the
world
becomes dark,
and you melt
into ice frozen
with knowledge.

~August 2011

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