midafternoon

the sun's whole weight is pressed upon my head
the pushing of the light holds me right in place
the strain is shown most clearly on my face

under bright sky there's no true room for dread
but we are forced to act with pleasant grace
the sun's whole weight is pressed upon my head

i could have chosen some lesser task instead
of going out and searching in this space
i'd let the heat and light weave and interlace
the sun's whole weight is pressed upon my head