The Sun Rose [r] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

The sun rose in the most beautiful golden glow,
changing the office into a flaxen pond - and I'm
floating on waves of sunshine ‘midst the joy of
honeyed surfaces, where yellow light caresses
surroundings blessed with wooden bookcases

It is like an early morning's outing in high wind -
an unceasing sound the air-con blows - like an
aeroplane taxing to take off into its stream; with
a cupboard between me & the sun, I enjoy the
golden light without getting fried: and oh, how

Perfect is this…