Of the sun, one winter afternoon —
the sun close to setting, one afternoon

after staring into a star too soon
and long before it disappeared: noon

the time when drought takes one
by surprise. And lessons, afternoons

with father, his solar physics — don't
stare or you'll go blind, eclipsed sun,

half sun, quarter sun, sun through pin-
hole camera, after all he was the sun

and the moon together — a web spun
of such sheerness, his disappearance.

Afterimages spring green and red, suns
float against closed eyes and afternoons.

From him — the Pater — must come afternoon.
What is it to be awake, else to mourn the One?