She of the Sun

She ran toward the sun.
All her life she ran toward the sun.
Even at night she ran toward the sun.
Even when mountains of demons piled upon her back,
She ran toward the sun.

She saw one of her best friends
Shrouded and put in a box
And buried in the earth
after four metal heads embraced him.
She ran toward the sun,
Even though she couldn't see it.

She ran toward the sun,
From a foreign country,
Where she watched the women before her mop cheap floors,
And vacuum vast lands of rugs,
In upper class houses
To make a living
And feed the growing yutes,
Then saw one by one their bodies,
Wrapped,
As Death's Christmas presents.

But she ran on toward the sun,
Trying to smile,
Hundred pound weights
Made of rolled up memories
Attached to the corners of her mouth,
Pulling it down,
Her face wrinkled with worry,
Weathered by a dream,
And her feet
Still carrying her,
In the direction where she thinks
Is the sun.