The sun's been known to reach on down

And lick you in a loving way on certain

Summer days. Don't waste it.

With an art taught to me long ago,

I pull at the golden touch like taffy

Stretch, savor, then swirl it up

And stow it somewhere close.

I have a small glowing spot

Right nearby my heart, summer.

So next time I find myself

In a cold dark winter made

Of anything from ice and snow

To colder eyes and feeling low.

I summon up the golden part,

And chew on sunlight long since gone.