NaPoWriMo #11: At times I have felt like a hair on a hammer

‘Time is the fire in which we burn.’
—Delmore Schwartz

A weight is lifted.
The earth is round.
The earth is full.
The moon is high and bright.
It lights my way
when the sun is hidden from me.

The sun is a mystery.
The sun is my enemy.
The sun is too bright.
It burns and blinds me and
it cooks me where I stand.

Binary Earth

How many neurons
fire or don’t fire

to spell the color red?

How many ons and offs
spell rouge instead

of scarlet or crimson,
color or rust?

How many more spell
iron to dust
and burn it to umber?

How many reds 
slumber in the brazier
of the sun?

How many browns
sleep in the mud?