Thank you, sun, truly,
for the light I never asked to drown in,
for turning the sidewalk into a stovetop
just to watch what I'd do.
How thorough of you,
to find every shadow I was hiding in
and evict it, personally,
with a smile no less.
My legs have filed a complaint.
My spine has quietly resigned.
Even my thoughts move slower now,
soft at the edges, like something
left out on purpose, to prove a point.
I used to call this "a beautiful day."
How generous of me.
You've made a believer of my knees —
they don't believe they can stand anymore.
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