Chase the Sun
by Jane Lang

I still chase the sun
the golden hours
the languid days
My mind’s eye
sharp, inquisitive
lured by a
clinging, cloying
smorgasbord of forest secrets
and wafting bumblebees
waking from
cold, bitter winter

I chase the sun
hold dear the hours
live the days
Inhale scents of  
spicy dampness
as miracles  
emerge from sleep
at each new morn’s dawn

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