Solstice
How again today our patron star
whose ancient vista is the long view
turns its wide brightness now and here:
Below, we loll outdoors, sing & make fire.
We build no henge
but after our swim, linger
by the pond. Dapples flicker
pine trunks by the water.
Buzz & hum & wing & song combine.
Light builds a monument to its passing.
Frogs content themselves in bullish chirps,
hoopskirt blossoms
on thimbleberries fall, peeper toads
hop, lazy—
Apex. The throaty world sings ripen.
Our grove slips past the sun’s long kiss.
We dress.
We head home in other starlight.
Our earthly time is sweetening from this.
Copyright © 2015 by Tess Taylor. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 19, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.
“A couple of years ago I had the great honor of spending a year working and living at Amy Clampitt’s house in Lenox, Massachusetts. I wrote and worked on a small farm three days a week, hiked and ran a lot, and I found myself drawn to my role that year as a watcher, as a being in time. Beauty is complicated, but sometimes joy feels pretty simple: lying in the pine needles by Upper Goose Pond, the pleasure of swimming and then drying off again.”
—Tess Taylor
Tess Taylor
Tess Taylor is the author of Work & Days (Red Hen Press, 2016) and The Forage House (Red Hen Press, 2013).