Why Does the Sun
Why does the sun
Break so blearily through
Sky’s rushing cellophane
On days like this, when rain
Is all it’s done for weeks,
And the dank grey ceiling settles in
On a gutter’s running leaks?
I drag myself through a show of health
When, it’s fairly obvious,
I’m the same as the rest of us,
And can barely save myself,
Let alone the drains,
From a bit of grief
Underneath the astral mud
And sullen funnel clouds,
Landslides and endless floods
Beside the swash of reefs,
Dredged up from shrouds
Of junk and seaweed
On our bloodied beach,
Flotsammed with the sluiced drift
And waste of our gifted land.
Nothing moves, just the endless glare
Of blame washing in the air,
Entire seasons ripped and
Twisted in the sand.
Who is anyone to pretend
They’re not surfing the net
For the latest fatal disease,
The newest Reddit trend?
In this atomic sunset
With its bursts of good cheer
We’re expected to transcend
But still accept the atmosphere,
The mechanics of tide,
That old alchemy of place,
The fog’s blind summertime,
The fallacy of losing face
To be as telltale here
As anywhere we know,
The Kona wind’s long slide
On the bay’s warm shallows
And the sun’s wild ride
On the currents of the zodiac:
Dark worlds that we hide
In the heavens that we lack.
May 15th, 2024, Kaiholu
June 22th, 2024, Kaiholu
Explanation
This is based on John Donne’s complaint to the sun, “The Sunne Rising”:
Busy old fool, unruly sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains call on us?
It’s set in a winter of rains at the beach, the climate going down the drain like the Somerset Maugham short story “Rain.” I’m not sure if my own rain ends as tragically as Maugham’s, but the ominous beauty of the island parallels the human condition as it moves towards tyranny around the world today.
Donne is more positive, and ignores the sun to focus, Vermeer like, on lovers in a bed, whom the sun transfigures, so the poem is about love, not annoyance at being woken by the sun. Donne’s love poems always end happily for his lovers.