Solstice Dawn

Solstice Dawn

The flutter-song swells,
a hundred robins’ voices needed
to create the glowing sky feast—

watermelon, strawberries, peaches—
the moon takes a delicate nibble
before she hums herself to sleep,

the feathery melodies from before-time
drift through the air, rose-tinted and sweet.

There’s a break in the January 6 Committee Hearings, so I’m posting this quickly. I wrote this on Tuesday for the solstice–it was a beautiful morning– and I shared it with @TopTweetTuesday. I’m sharing it now for dVerse Open Link Night.

At the end of May

At the end of May,

moon-breath clouds linger
as sparrows and robins awaken the sun.

Soon the furnace door will open
and the air will steam,

but now, light and shadow play tag,
and the little deer join the game.
A blue jay referees from a high tree branch

where tattered decorations for the war dead cling
like ghosts

on the river, and time tumbles in the waves
while the surface sparkles with memories.

I wrote this early this morning and shared it with @TopTweetTuesday. I can’t seem to get away from River Ghosts!