the red ember that slips
over the western mountains?
that peekaboo buttery blaze
clearing the eastern horizon?
what about mid-morning’s
engorged torch
or noon’s smoldering stare?
like many other questions
I bet your answer changes
we are shade-loving plants
that need light and heat
the delicate balance
of need and desire
your weakness runs to the shadows
your strengths want to grow expand
and isn’t life those moments
when we waver between caution
and a dash out of hiding
arms wide open
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