Yellow Crayon
A poem by PF Kenneth

Yellow Crayon

You stare into the burning wheel of the Sun,
rendered castrate and ridiculous in yellow crayon.
Its friendly grin and Ray Bans are equally askew.

You recall that with a diameter of one-point-three-million kilometres, and
an average temperature of 5,778 Kelvin,
the Sun would be capable of containing
and subsequently incinerating every planet in the solar system.

Your son is not one-point-three-million kilometres in diameter,
nor does he have an average temperature of 5,778 Kelvin.
But the heat from his expectant eyes still burns like an open furnace.

You search for words to express the immensity of his presence,
to explain that he has consumed and incinerated you in a flash of nuclear energy,
but instead you can only smile — idiot-fashion —
and say that it’s the best drawing of the Sun that you have ever seen, and hope
that this is enough.

About the Author:

PF Kenneth is a high school English teacher in Queensland, Australia. He is paid to talk to (or at) young humans about other people’s words five days a week. Sometimes, late at night, he also writes his own words.

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