People in the Sun by Edward Hopper
I went to sunny climes
and ignored the light.
In my worn satchel I carried a book,
an old tome
I had since high school,
its leather cover scarred and tested
I'd never read it
merely carried it as I traveled through life,
and it got knocked and bumped along with me.
We sat on rickety wood chairs
and faced the sun
white-skinned and lacking flavor.
Our chairs were lined up
likes pews in church.
Hopeful faces pointed upward
to the preacher man sun
hoping he would fill souls
by coloring faces,
making them beautiful people,
people of verve and grace and wonder.
I stuck my head
in the book instead
since I'd brought it
hoping rather to find enlightenment
among chapters and verses
describing other people's lives
as if it would rub off on mine.
I thought it could.
and found the book merely reiterated
where we'd already been together,
this book and I,
same lessons, same life, different colors.
My face burned anyway but unlike the others
I saw no value to it
and it hurt.
That was when I decided
to stay home next time
and read my book in the shade
Copyright 2008 JO Janoski