.
The Solstice
W.S. Merwin
They say the sun will come back
 at midnight
 after all
 my one love
but we know how the minutes
 fly out into
 the dark trees
 and vanish
like the great ʻōhiʻas and honey creepers
 and we know how the weeks
 walk into the
 shadows at midday
at the thought of the months I reach for your hand
 it is not something
 one is supposed
 to say
we watch the bright birds in the morning
 we hope for the quiet
 daytime together
 the year turns into air
but we are together in the whole night
 with the sun still going away
 and the year
 coming back
. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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