Rain falls on Sun – Sons of Man remain thin
Icons amidst pelting grains of showered
Life, winnowing illusions, chagrined
And drooping, relative to Sun’s bower.

Sad flower heads – with nowhere to hide while
Rainy skies lie with every show of might,
Proportioned down with careless, covert guile
Upon shivering necks of cowered fright.

Weep, yellow bright – defer delusions ruse
Of cliffed subterfuge. Prepare awareness
For sun-rayed fortitude; You must now chose
The path of your earthbound fate. I address

Your inner breadth; show Sun willingness to
Flourish while expressed – open , and renew.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Photograph by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 5/10/05