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Solar

Suspended lion face

Spilling at the centre

Of an unfurnished sky

How still you stand,

And how unaidedSingle stalkless flower

You pour unrecompensed.

The eye sees you

Simplified by distance

Into an origin,

Your petalled head of flames

Continuously exploding.

Heat is the echo of your Gold.

Coined there among

Lonely horizontals

You exist openly.

Our needs hourly

Climb and return like angels.

Unclosing like a hand,

You give for ever.

-Philip Larkin