I feared the fleeting sunshine
gleaming in the high tree branches—

Sunday’s final hours slowly wrung
out beneath the churning Earth.

School meant burned-out teachers’
glazed eyes ignoring cruelties.

Laying chips on my turkey sandwich
alone in the library’s AV room, in the back,

hunched over dusty, fallen piles
of LIFE, and long-dormant film cameras.

Even today, my stomach still churns a bit,
when I see Sunday sunlight in the treetops.