SOLSTICE

Turning to light.

This time of year loons fill the night with laughs

and lovers bloom in beds across the dark.

She reaches out of sleep

settles a slender hand on me.

Hardly any night left to pass.

One gray feather of dawn strokes her pillow.

Solstice morning, thick with loons

this new air full with magnificent laughter.

---

Appeared in Semaphore, Tangram Press limited edition printed and bound by Jerry Reddan, master printer at Arion Press, San Francisco.