298. Glare 

About the sun as I lay in the park… 

Slicing, omnipresent, 

Gliding through the densest shrubbery.

Traveller of many miles, 

Rest on me finally. 

Golden, glowing, lighting,

Dispel dark, leaves urban green. 

T’ward the source burns only hell,

We live on what it feeds. 

(Photo – Eli Woodbine, Canada, 2016) 

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