“MATHURA MAN SETS RECORD BY STARING AT SUN FOR OVER AN HOUR”
Seventy and retired
it comes to this—
apertures white as snow,
the comforting dark.
Out of sight, out of mind.
The tired engine’s bark
and burp of black
fireworks he saw explode
once like a profusion
of lotus across night.
And this summer’s
sun softened streets?
Cool river mud
between boyhood toes.
He does this unblinking.
Because it hurts,
the light that bounces
off this world.
We squint and squint,
trying to adjust,
not so much to shut out
as look past it.
—from Poets Respond
March 29, 2022
__________
Gus Peterson: “I heard this story mentioned in passing on the radio driving into town today. Although a few months old, I had to see if it was true. I’m still not sure it is. But after such a long dark pandemic winter indoors in Maine my eyes still haven’t adjusted to the brilliance of even a partly sunny day. But I can understand the impulse to not want to see at times.”
