Framing The Sun

with your hands
you frame the sun
you stare at it
you know what
happens next

too much light
too small a grasp
too much sun
too small a mind

do you remember
how the balloon
burst? i shiver
to the sound of
your explosion

there are shatters
of memories
left on the ground
but not calling for help

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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