Sparrow

There's a mechanism somewhere deep in my genetic code, some circuit break of the northern ways and once the sunlight hits it, it effectively cuts the rest of my functions. All I can do is stare into sunlight, is stop in the middle of the street and wonder why I ever wanted to do anything but bask, but smile, but lift every other body toward the sun and say see, here, you live. It's so many long nights of barely seeing the horizon that when all you have is open sky it gets a little disorienting. She says Come out early and you don’t say no. 

It is May now. I no longer say no. 

See. Here. I live.