A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
The sun is cruel and it is kind.
It makes me feel alive and at times dead.
It fills me with warmth on windy days,
A delightful reprieve from cold
That reigned for so long.
It forces the water out
To cling to my skin
Bringing a flush to my cheeks
And to see green where it does not exist.
It makes my work hard
And my rest at times full of both happiness and loathing.
Some days, I am grateful for the sun.
Some days, I am grateful for the clouds.
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