RedGage

~* A Fair Day *~

It was a fair day.
The sun was hung-
in a bright blue sky.
The sun dangled there,
sporting a smirk,
as it beat down
heavy and hot
and heated the earth.
It chased the breeze
out of the leaves
and sucked all the coolness
from the shade of the trees.

 

 

 

 

  The day was fair.
The sun hung there-
quite pleased with itself.
It baked the life
out of the poor dirt road,
stole all its moisture
left it cracked and drying
and turning to dust,
which was scattered
by the wheels
of the town bound carts.

 

 

 

 

 The day was fair.
The occasional cloud
peeked over the horizon,
only to be taunted,
then beaten,
by this oppressive sun.
And the sun just hung-
and it became hotter
as the day grew longer.
The air was cloying
with the dust and the heat.
You chewed on it,
you gagged on it,
you were too parched to speak.

 

 

 

 

 The day was fair.
The sun was hung-
barely,
by just a fingernail
from the edge of the sky.
Night stepped on its head
turning the sun crimson and rose-
every shade of red.
The sun cried from embarrassment
over the fuss and mess it had made.
Then clutching the edge of the earth,
the sun cast a long shadow
just to spite the night.
Then the sun gave in
and slunk out of sight.
It was after all ... a fair day.

~*  MrBill © 1996  *~

The accompanying photographs were taken on the
Greek Cyclades island of Thira (Santorini).

Top: Farmer with his donkeys returning
from his plots on the slope of Mont Profiti.
Middle: Looking down from Mont Profiti past the
scorched and fallow terraced plots of gardens and
vineyards.
Bottom: Thira sunset, looking out over the caldera to
Thirasia (little Thira).