Number One Sun How beautiful is the sun? And how equipped am I to judge? Make comparisons with what? Maybe she is only alluring, Because I have never seen another, And if I had to choose from many. Would I still pick this one? The brightest star of all. Although it could be the most repellent thing, Under all that light and glow Behind the solar winds, Infinite black. And if I stared? Would I really be struck blind? The last scene in my own private movie Bright white, turning black (through crimson gloss) Burnt, charred, scarred, dead. That would show me! How benevolent the sun is How irrelevant to those, Spun glass Spindle babies Neon lit One hundred fathoms down. How malevolent to these Pasty white skins Who only want to be What they are not. Free to burn, All those Insulators. Protectors. Right through to the inside, Let's see what you really are, Supreme annihilator. Fever loving, radiating, Number one sun. (c) Rebecca Helen Galloway 2001
	Rebecca Helen Galloway Rebecca Galloway born in 1974, and has had a number of poems published in small press magazines in the UK and USA. She has lived in England and the USA. and now is based in Scotland where she lives with her husband and two fantastic children. She is the editor of  'pod' a poetry webzine -- well worth a visit at www.podpoetry.co.uk