Squashing the Sun

As kids
we played this game
where we squished the setting sun
(I’m crushing your head!)
between pointer finger and thumb
as it set in the crimson sky.
I remember feeling powerful, large
all of that fire, heat
snuffed out by my own small fingers
crushed to the earth like so many embered bones.
Do you remember?
Holding that blazing thing in our very hands,
shadows disappearing, dissolving day
edges softening in the fading light;
or are these memories
like all else
all these
miles and
chasms
between
us
melted,
gone?

.

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16 Responses to Squashing the Sun

  1. ack – could barely read this – yellow on white? What possessed you! Yeah, I know – sun colour :-) & I played that game too – still do sometimes :-)

  2. better :-) Never forget your reader’s ability to read :-) & orange is the mix of red & yellow, so a good colour for your poem,

  3. sorrygnat says:

    Hard to read the yellow print! hugs

  4. The color worked for me…and the poem is great.

  5. De, loved to stalk you. Wonderful poem reminding me that I also had a childhood once. Hope you celebrate this day the 30th of April with a smile having accomplished your PAD 2012.

  6. hedgewitch says:

    For a moment you had childhood innocence right up there for me, then sank it in the sadness of adult loss–great use of clean crisp imagery and sharp language to get those feelings across so purely.

  7. I like the childhood memory….and nice format of the words ~

  8. margaretbednar says:

    Childhood friends…where are they now? I often wonder.

  9. I have the same sun-pinching memory too… so it isn’t all snuffed out, that bit of pinched sunshine resides somewhere in the synapses of time.

  10. Herotomost says:

    Haaaaaaa!!!!! I still do that with my kids! Kids in the hall right? Wonderful memory and great poem…you made me smile pretty huge…I like that.

  11. This is gorgeous, sad and pondering feeling. This is especially pretty:

    “Holding that blazing thing in our very hands,
    shadows disappearing, dissolving day
    edges softening in the fading light;”

    Beautiful, De!

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