On a Sunny Day

On a Sunny Day Why is it that beauty is so hard to attain We try to reach for it, grab it with our polished nails Until they break off Because we were to stubborn to admit To admit is to realize To realize is to be awake To be awake is ought to be Ought to be not deceived Gautama on his side entering the eternal light Yet, I am asleep Because I can reach for beauty But it vanishes in Fall Resurrects in Spring Flourishes in Summer And is gone by winter As a little bird on the window sill I tend to stand still Looking inside the room Eating my sweet potato pie in the afternoon Supper is there, brown is her hair Eat