Sunset and Scars
The sun was setting and his wounds began stinging, but ...
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Sunset and Scars
by Wolfgang Glinka
He sat on a bench and looked west -
Through the sky,
Tearing it,
Staring.
Hypnotic gaze,
Blinking,
Nothing more.
Breaths, first like gasps,
Fall silent.
Hands on thighs,
A pianist poised to play.
Sitting statue,
Solemn monarch,
Sun King.
Read what you want:
Dignified,
Scared.
From noon til now
The sun in his face.
Lit up
Not dazzled.
The sky blistered and bled,
Slashed open,
Dissected.
He looked away,
Smiling, sighing,
Cured perhaps,
Peaceful, at rest.
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