Summer Solstice

Seeing that crescent, waxing, easing into

            Open arms of deodar, stretching, ready to receive-

The last smudged ash of sunset darkening into gauze

            Of valley mist and distant shadows of Coastal Range-

The longest day of the year slowly, so

Slowly, surrenders to darkness.

Lights dancing out on the highway, twenty-two, wending

            West, into the foothills and through to the coast,

The bear overhead points to Polaris, the anchor,

            Just to the left of the tip of the largest fir,

The neighborhood quiet, no one moving, ten-thirty,

            Twilight disappearing,

Astonished at the magnificence, the grandeur, of this

            World we’ve remaining, and I with naught but words,

That cannot bring the heartbreaking beauty to life,

            Cannot convey the chill, fecund scent after two-days rain,

Wet cedar, fields of hay, and flower, and forests of fir,

Astonished, still, at it all,

            How many more springs? How many more perfect evenings?

I am not a prisoner of my past,

            Not only can we choose to move forward, progress, we must,

Even to maintain a modicum of accountability, at this late hour,

            To the world we leave behind.

Jupiter drops behind the mountains,

            A whisper of a crescent sets into murky bloodorange haze,

The bear dances around the north star,

            A puff of a cool breeze from the ocean, waves across the valley,

The sky is void of portent for tonight,

            Just for tonight.