I Drink To The Sun Poem by Harry Crosby
I Drink To The Sun
Mad day flags crackling in the dawn the sharp intensity of drink dentelleries thrown over the mill fire sun and candlelight and at midnight I squeeze the juice of the silver fruit of the moon into the red glass of my heart. I drink to the Sun who lies concealed in his bed under the sheets of night. In the morning he will rise like a Red Indian to run his marathon across the sky.
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8/7/2026 9:52:18 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
