Solar Relay Race

Solar Relay Race

(By River Allen)

In the evening, the sun took your sorrow with her, slinging it under her arm as she hurtled over the horizon, a molten gold medalist, a celestial olympian. She took your tears, carefully plucked like jewels, like berries, from your cheeks. She peeled your aches, paper-thin and torn in places, from your skin. She left you, bare and blushing, on the cracked earth, the dust exhaling as it gave itself up to the coming rain. 

She's still there, a bluish haze of light, a smear of her perfume on the edge of the world. When she comes back, will she bring your sorrow too? Your aches, your tears? 

I guess that's up to you. 

You lie in the cooling soil and look up at the stars. Soft grass strokes your hair, your cheeks, beckoning you to close your eyes. 

In the distance you hear thunder. Or maybe it's her footsteps. She never stops running, feet thumping, glowing heart hammering, pounding out the rhythm of the solar relay race. Will you extend your hand to take up her baton? Will you run with her, the wind whistling and cheering from the sidelines? 


I guess that's up to you.