A Different Time

Many of us are not capable of releasing the past,
of releasing the suffering of the past.
We want to cling to our own suffering.
—Thich Nhat Hanh

Who has not burned under a hot sun
before we knew about slathering
sun tan lotion—over every bare place,

My ears turned red, blistered, bleed
after a day at Jones Beach
My back turned cherry red
while I flew a kite at Crane's Beach
and watched it challenge the sun to a dance
I bought ointment and gently
spread the balm over raised welts

Who has tanned under a burning sun
since we began to slather
sun tan lotion—over every bare place



Day 19
April National Poetry Month
Prompt: burn