The sun again visits me - it is my day "my day in the sun" more hoped-for than promised as I turned to face the wall, to plod the road of mud the sea glitter, the bright aqua sky, the bright cliff grasses and the bright birds: I turned my back to think and write to make a way through. This is no circle, this is an arc of black fire one end of the bow was that walled moment the other end is now: in full hot sun, battle won and only 26 harsh years between.next poem