I am enamored of the sun,
Crowned blond with spiky rays,
Striking hot the summer’s noon
To burn me through the haze.

I am enamored of the sun,
Born fiery in the east:
Spearing down to smolder me,
A ghost — eight past, black space.

I am enamored of the sun
Who penetrates my days,
Though I can never touch him lest
I char my hands away.

I am enamored of the sun
And dare this once to see:
His brilliance sears my eyes — at last!
Worth sight and life.  Beauty.

[Adele Gardner is currently painting portals in her hall and building a closet TARDIS.  Home wouldn’t be complete without five cats, five birds, a harpsichord, and two friendly guitars.  She’s had poems and stories in Goblin FruitStrange HorizonsDaily Science FictionSybil’s GarageThe Leading EdgeMythic DeliriumMindFlights, and Star*Line, among others.  She chaired the 2012 Rhysling Anthology.  Her first poetry collection, Dreaming of Days in Astophel, is available from Sam’s Dot Publishing.  Please note: most of this occurred under her previous byline, Lyn C. A. Gardner.]

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