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by Hayley Rawle


The sun arrived on a chariot
and cruised past the remnants of Saturday
which had fallen in piles
on the lawn in the nighttime
and heaped like clothes
next to the unmade bed
of Nicolaus Copernicus,

who woke up late to the gilded light
of mid-morning thickening
in his bedroom, his longish black hair
puffy and his eyelids still weighted
with sleep.

The bronze noise of church
bells rung dense in his ears
as he plodded to the window
and peered out at the obtrusive sun,

which seemed to be caught in orbit,
circling just around his room.




Hayley Rawle is a Provo, Utah native. She was raised on reading and writing, and naturally landed in the English major at Brigham Young University. Along with English things, she enjoys hiking, eating Mexican food, and watching good films. Her husband Bentley, of course, is her #1 fan.