pity the odds

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.