Half the sun has risen
above the ocean. Yet
from my hotel window
I cannot discern a clear
division between the real
effulgence and its sparkling
illusion. To the eye
the corporeal and its projection
appear as one: the entire east
is a diamond of fire, a dihedral
brightness, the dawn a vertical diptych
in blinding orange—a dual being
joined by nothing
except the perpetual radiation
of light.

Greg Girvan grew up in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania and received a Bachelor of Arts in English from Slippery Rock University. His writing appears or is forthcoming in The South Carolina Review, Revolver, Sleet Magazine, Red Rock Review, Our Stories and a number of other periodicals. He works as a freelance writer and editor in Pittsburgh.