In the Sun Stream

Crossing the deck

it’s eating the pillars, charring the floor boards,

dissolving umbrellas that are supposed to protect us.

The captain shrinks away, not holding his own either.

The chairs on which we sit

are afloat in its efflorescence.

Only the deck hands are still about,

hurriedly resetting the tables

after lunch.

It won’t take much: only one more prickle of photons

to fry our brains

to make us retreat.

So back to the cabins.

Time to put several layers

of ten core steel

between us and the sunlight.