by G. Jack Urso
we are at our coldest
and the night the longest
at our closest point to the Sun
. . . the Sun that sets early now
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| Untitled image from On the Edge, Ginn and Co., 1973. |
dipping below the horizon by 4:30
slipping its bond with the day
abandoning us for the blackness
and uncertainty
of the night
when we are the furthest
from light and warmth
we draw closer to it
approaching the dawn
of the longest day
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I have always been intrigued by how opposites entwined create a truth. Enjoyed the poem. "Approaching the dawn of the longest day. . ." Death as an awakening. I think I prefer that sort.
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