A yellow sun, hot on our backs reminds us of the days when we were completely, utterly joyful. Our lives were full of freedom, freedom to do whatever we wanted, to flow with the breeze, to follow the sunset into tomorrow. But those days are only memories, reminding me that the sun rises each morning before it can set each evening, that I cannot reverse the way that the sun crawls across the expansive sky. In the meantime, I count the sunsets. So I am left to reminisce about those times when we basked in the sun's rays and relaxed under the moon's shadow. I am left to pick up pieces from the past, pieces that have landed among the stars.
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