Early Morning Sun Turns the Georgia Power Building Golden
The Georgia Power building gleams black, tall,
an angular edifice buzzing with commerce.
Daily, I take my daughter to school—we chat, listen to music, sometimes argue—then,
alone, I pass it, driving eastward, going to work.
The deep black, its size, like a huge onyx ornament,
draws my eye each day—as architecturally intended, I suppose.
One winter morning—
Was it the sun’s angle at that time of year, plus that precise time of the morning?
Was it that particular light-dispersing arrangement of clouds?
—that morning, the glowing, rising sun extended its rays to the building and changed the black to gold, top to bottom, even around a corner. A massive sculpted ingot.
Was it telling us: Look here, we change black oil to glittery wealth? That power enriches? That we—we—make this city hum and prosper, and don’t you forget it?
Or was it simply saying: What good fortune you have, to be with your daughter those rich twenty minutes.