I think of the sun
Not just any
But the kind waking me
As a young boy
Rising with it
Only venturing to sleep
Long past its setting
I think of the sun
Something magical
Very much inside me
Doing nothing for Marietta sweet corn
Or the ham-like beef stake tomatoes
Sold along two-lane Route 7
Just north of New Matamoras
I think of sun, golden yellow
Kingly in posture
Rising and falling on que
Like some Viennese opera singer
Whose voice rings out
Only to crash suddenly
Leaving us waiting for more
When I think of sun
I remember best the sun
That slipped through the trees
Along the edges of Cloverfield
Where as a boy I dreamed the only dreams
Coming completely true in my life
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Kosmos Consulting and Research website: https://www.donaldiannone.com/
Visual Advantage Photography website: http://www.visualadvantagephoto.com
Flickr Photo Page here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/don-iannone
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
View all posts by Don Iannone, D.Div.
Poetic Alchemist 
lovely! I feel the same about the sun. 🙂
Thanks Polona. Glad you enjoyed this one. Hope you are well.
ah, nice… love it
Thanks Dan. Thought you’d recognize this one.
Great! You know I like these kind, nostalgic that I am. And,’coincidentally’, we were just looking at Marietta on the net yesterday.
Thanks! And welcome back…
Great photos, too!