Bree eats sunshine.
Every sunny morning
at precisely 10:30
she goes outside,
lifts her head to the sky,
opens her mouth
and lets the golden rays
slip down her throat.
They fill her body
with light.
She does it simply
because it’s good,
as right as oranges
and generosity,
as regular exercise,
doing your homework early
and helping with the dishes.
And also because it feeds
the butterflies in her stomach.
Such a diet of sun
brings out the brilliant
colors in their wings—the reds
and yellows and deep sea
blues. Otherwise, the butterflies
would turn brown and mushy,
she says. That’s exactly
what she says, this bright,
courageous and slightly audacious
sunshine eating girl.
Every sunny morning
at precisely 10:30
she goes outside,
lifts her head to the sky,
opens her mouth
and lets the golden rays
slip down her throat.
They fill her body
with light.
She does it simply
because it’s good,
as right as oranges
and generosity,
as regular exercise,
doing your homework early
and helping with the dishes.
And also because it feeds
the butterflies in her stomach.
Such a diet of sun
brings out the brilliant
colors in their wings—the reds
and yellows and deep sea
blues. Otherwise, the butterflies
would turn brown and mushy,
she says. That’s exactly
what she says, this bright,
courageous and slightly audacious
sunshine eating girl.
Brilliant! Both Bree and her grandmother. LIGHT is vital indeed.
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