Married to the Sun
One ray makes an incision through a layer of cloud to land
like a stream of gold upon my outstretched hand.
It is no illusion that its trail of liquid gold
winds around my finger. It’s a beauty to behold.
All my life, it’s true I’ve not belonged to anyone,
but now it is official. I am married to the sun.
Why else would just one sun ray make the decision to linger
of all the places in the world, only upon my finger?