Night in Day

This poem is by Joseph Stroud.  I saw it on the Narrative website (for link, see sidebar).

Night in Day

The night never wants to end, to give itself over
to light.  So it traps itself in things:  obsidian, crows.
Even on summer solstice, the day of light's great
triumph, where fields of sunflowers guzzle in the sun--
we break open the watermelon and spit out
black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass.

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