Sip of the Sun

Sip of the Sun


I sat on the white concrete bench
Under cherry blossom
Trees blooming
Bees pleading
for longer heaven staying
So visibly in the soft sunlight

In the shadow of the cold bench
A dandelion wriggling between the cracks
Of brown tiles cold
One meter is too long
for a sip of the sun still.
I stare at the gray bud
On the top of the pale stalk
And hear
“I thought I was meant to be in the sun.”