When there are no birds,
will you do the singing?
Somebody has to—
otherwise, that morning
doesn’t count, and we all
have to trudge toward afternoon
unheralded as the clouds peel back
a hot dog sun or a hard-boiled egg
sun, not anything to be
celebrated, particularly.
It’s dangerous,
to let this happen. A sun unsung
is one that might chose to come
closer
and closer
and closer
until we burn in our
adoration. So it’s better,
safer, if someone does
the singing, and I’m
wondering (if there’s
a day without birds)
if that someone
could be you.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
How is it, that you can write something beautiful and strange, that cracks me up – the word choices that would never gave dawned on me, but there on the page, they are absolutely exquisite and perfect – and make me cry for the questions you ask.
Awww, thanks, Liesl! I’m glad you enjoyed this one. I don’t know where the hot dog sun came from, either. 🙂