When the Sun
Artwork by Merrell Hatton
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There was a day when the sun forgot to rise,
and confusion was creeping. The people
didn’t go to their lives, and
stayed home instead, watching
the sky. Alarms were shut off
the glow of the time creating
a mist. The dark
was in every room
feeling crisp and slightly cool
as the people failed to push it away.
Coffee was never brewed
teeth were never brushed,
hair was never combed,
pajamas were never rolled, tightly.
The ones scared of the dark cried
and prayed to a god and called
to a mother. Meetings
were canceled and lies
to keep sane were
whispered to someone younger.
When the ears were pressed through
the cracks of the doors:
anxiety. Delusion entered each
corner, while the people
waited. Neighbors were never
seen, their movements
hidden and their breaths
quick. They knew something
went wrong
this was all a mistake,
the sun was just running late.
But I could tell it forgot
when the stars stopped their dance,
and began their search.
The moon stood and waited,
naive and excluded. Seeing
none of the faces, of the ones
in their rooms staring at the moon.
They deemed it the night hero,
asking it for light.
I liked this day
when the world was unified
when the people mourned
and all was silent.
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