Nothing, and I mean nothing,
Is steadfast in this life.
Not even the sun.
I know, for I have looked into the
Heavens. I have seen for myself.
The Sun that rises here is different
From the Sun that shines elsewhere.
How it washes out color and texture,
How it steals the sweat from my brow,
All are unique to this place.
All are unique to this now.
Note: I wrote this poem while participating in a creative writing program at Columbia University. It was later published in a student produced literary journal, “Nifty Shades of Beige.