Except the Sun


I speed north on the UP line
Passing everything

The early evening train is unslowed
By a white fog that rolls ashore
As from a giant block of dry ice

Above the mist
A cover of gray hides the sky
But not the sun

Perfect circle, not yellow, not orange
Gray-white, like a full moon
Which I can’t study, but for a few seconds

I look
Then look away

It’s featureless

I speed north on the UP line
Passing everything

Except the sun

It’s at my left
And, though far away
Moves with me

It’s the only thing I’m bringing home

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