Sun

by Madeline Busse

Streets stained white with salt 
Like bleached desert bones 
Nakedly reflect cold light, 
Bordering grass brown from snow now gone.

On my walk to class, the sun emerges: 
The wind still slices, but the sky is blue 
Windows once grey glow with midmorning  
Stone walls catch rays and become warm to sit on.

I read a line that said it’s easy to believe in God 
When you’re feeling fit and the sun is shining 
I admit something about the sun turns me to the Son
Warm light conveys remembrance of an era of innocence

The first day of spring is a taste of Eden  
Eyes photosynthesize, and I know the light is as good as it is warm.