Tart and sweet,
warmth running down my middle.
The cricket click of a processor.
The whine of refrigeration.
The wave of radiation shimmering in the shadow box of mullions.
No matter where I am, I can find the glow of the sun.
It and I travel all over, and yet, connect –
if I look, if I feel, if I stop to soak it in.
Sometimes the grandest thing to be done
is to do nothing but soak in the sun.