it’s that dream again—
it’s evening and parents
are coaxing their children
away from the last bits
of 9 o’clock sun—
forcing them from monkey
bars and tree houses
into pajamas
brushing teeth—
the sun is too bright
the children are restless
the day is too long—
then it dawns on us
the fire in the sky is
growing
we are frozen in the
rising heat
the all enveloping brightness
does in the world
with a last
brilliant blast.
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