Regular Poem: Sunshine

3 Apr

A lady at work–
I don’t work with her every day;
she sees bursts of me,
small rays of heat and light–
calls me Sunshine.

I haven’t decided
whether she does this because
I am sunshine
or because
she’s encouraging me
to continually become
more sunshine-like.

She seems to know me
in a
way–
she gets me in an
intuitive, somehow spirtual
way,
and
she talks to me so
intimately in a
way
that only a
middle-aged lady can
get away with.

And I feel both
comfortable and uncomfortable
about this–
warmed and awkward,
grown and naive and gawking,
always so happy
to see her
yet also
dreading
to run into her unexpectedly
and to be compelled out
of a grimace and into
a smile,
into sunshine–

knowing
in a
way
I should’ve already been
sunshine.

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2 Responses to “Regular Poem: Sunshine”

  1. Silver Screenings 12 April 2015 at 12:46 PM #

    I love this piece, and I love this middle-aged lady.

    I know exactly what you mean by “warmed and awkward”.

    • TheBestofAlexandra 3 May 2015 at 9:42 PM #

      Thanks! I also love this middle-aged lady. It’s always so special and surreal to find someone who doesn’t really know you but who so totally believed in you. Like it’s great and awful at the same time.

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