Summertime Sun

I see the sun on the sidewalk
The size of a basketball, maybe
A watermelon cracked open
Spilled guts, cold and mushy
on the gray gravel pavement.

A child's soul withers
In the solid tramp of heels
As the adult falls in hysterics
Spinning with the shining spokes and wheels
Of bicycles with flags and bells
tooting youth and fun.

The summer sun blazes on
And languishes in the space of darkness
Turning blue its sheets and pools
White rays containing all to see
And blinding those who dare to look
who cannot help but look.

An eye, a seeing eye that flares
With cataracts and crowns
That shows the rocks as plain as ever
Still with beauty of an age untouched
by human grasping hands.

The eye, a ball fresh from the socket
Bleeding forth but cool and long dead
Hanging there to show the never changing
Movement of the metal boats
And coasts encrusted with barnacles, life
and filth and washed up plastic.

Commotion in the cities and workers
Hearts beating smooth, irregular tempos
Starting delicate and ending feebly
Somehow gaining strength from fear
In sprints and dashes and a lurch
from time to time under the sun.

Many minds holding secret council so publicly
Smushed together without finesse
Creating art abounding replicating
And not mattering along the while
As it does, does all matter
to the object in motion.  

While the sun keeps its indifferent watch
Guarding the wall while the prisoners dance
The merry tune escapes its edges
As the sphere turns and wraps
With love and violence
the sound of uncaring warmth.

Thoughts and thoughtlessness in turn
Interpret what is found under the light
Intern the players to their stage
Set the curtains heavy velvet
wafting lightly at the window's edge.