Your Heroes Left You For Dead Poem by Ernest Hilbert

I find I'm surprised by some happiness
As I move from a building's big shadow
Into a merciless passage of sunlight.
It annihilates the depths, distances, and angles
That define the streetscape throbbing below,
So bright it almost extinguishes sight,
But when I recognize I've been made joyful
The joy is gone, erased. I remember
Reason after massive reason to let
The moment go and yield to the tidal pull
Of thoughts that lead slowly to surrender
To the many new enemies I've not yet
Met. Friends tell me I should be happier,
But to think is to appreciate that even
This sunshine—brilliant, primeval balm—will burn
If I linger too long, that it can blur
A universe of details to blindness when
One stares fixedly. Should I simply turn
Away, indulge in life, raw, and its defeat,
Bask in a way fashioned from a false fire,
Or accept radiances of a desire
To stop, eyes closed, and doubtless feel the heat?