It’s the first thing given to me other than life,
both of which I don’t remember being given to me.
Waxy crayons leave trails of shining suns –
always wobbly circles emitting rays
in varying lengths, a knowing smile,
and sometimes, ironically, a pair of shades.
I watch my nieces draw this same sun.
Their lives also started with a gift –
a thing they will only remember
because we show them each brilliant ring.