Saturday, June 21, 2014

poem for the summer solstice

Lanes on the cusp
of honeysuckle and dog-rose,
ash and oak in their full clothes.

Here where this damselfly alights
on the solar globe of the ox-eye daisy,
where the spells that make rain and wind
and birdtracks pleach the air –

again and again we sing the sun back up,
spin summer-short moonlight into our hair;
again and again in this circle of days and nights
against loss, decay, death, we raise hope, friendship, love.

Brief lives; but the stuff of which we’re made
is starfire and water – everything holds our trace.


~ Roselle Angwin © 2012