Photo by Brenner Oliveira from Pexels
Poetry

Sun Veneration

Sun Veneration

I am no match

for my beach neighbors

in camping chair pews.

I don’t know the words

to their gentle hymns,

the taste of bread and wine

on their table.

All I can offer

to the hazy August sun

is my own slick, darkened body

prostrate on the warm sand,

soft palms turned upwards

as if welcoming a gift

from above.

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