Where is the Sun
Beyond these plastic shades
There is a glow.
I can let it in,
Or I can bid it go.
Some days it is welcome.
I shout, Come on in.
Others, the brightness
Gets under my skin.
My fellows think it sad.
They whisper I'm mad,
That I've come undone.
When it is they
Who don't know
The peace of the dark,
The death of the glow.
Copyright © Ellen Gwaltney Bales | Year Posted 2025
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