Remembrance of Things Imperfect: SUN

It is the middle of a sunny summer day.
I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,
with my neighbours following me.

We all want to see the Sun.
It just fell down in the front yard.

I saw it coming down,
like an overripe cantaloupe,
staining the sky
with sticky, succulent golden juices.

‘Just Fell Down’, Alicia Pacheco AKA Kuro

There it is,
lying on the ground,
a giant orange,
flattening the grass it landed on,
squirting its warm essence
all over our bodies.

The neighbourhood dogs
are running around,
barking at this strange visitor.

I approach it warily.
I touch it.
It is warm and beautiful,
glistening in the mid-noon light.

I remember well feelings of
amazement, incredulity, inexplicable joy
overwhelming me,
and the comical expressions of confusion
on the faces of my neighbours.

BORIS GLIKMAN is a writer, poet and philosopher from Melbourne, Australia. His stories, poems and non-fiction articles have been published in various online and print publications, as well as being featured on national radio and other radio programs. He says: “Writing for me is a spiritual activity of the highest degree. Writing gives me the conduit to a world that is unreachable by any other means, a world that is populated by Eternal Truths, Ineffable Questions and Infinite Beauty. It is my hope that these stories of mine will allow the reader to also catch a glimpse of this universe.”

Artist Credit:
Alicia Pacheco AKA Kuro


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