Solstice poem

This is a poem I wrote two years ago.

Solstice Means Sun Standing Still

Even when lids shut, the tissue
aquiver — the scroll of light
rolling on, a form of damnation.

I want to go through my days,
my nights, like a rib cage.
Each curving spear connected
at a central pole. Sure
in form, sure in purpose,
protecting the two wind
lobes and the single beating
fist — lungs and heart safer
for the bony embrace.

Instead, a vibrato of uncertainty.

How has the non-tactile
flow of damage gained ascendancy
over sinew and nerve,
crowding out all the places
in the body that crave
silence?

One day those ribs will spear
dirt and crumble. Shouldn’t the body
being Hand Maiden to Death wake
us out of stupor now
and then?

Let me eat a cracker
with a smidge of butter.
Let me sweep the steps free of snow
and then sleep under a blanket
that whispers ‘hallelujah.’
Let the sun falling on tabletops
stir gratitude.


The Solstice is here.
Let ‘standing still’ mean something.

Personal update: the bad news is live-in caregiver up and quit. The good news is that I got to see my brother walk.

17 thoughts on “Solstice poem

  1. Doris

    stunning, dee. It was a needed solstice eve companion that provoked a stand still in me. I am grateful to you for sharing it.

    Reply
  2. Marti

    “…sleep under a blanket
    that whispers ‘hallelujah.’
    Let the sun falling on tabletops
    stir gratitude”

    This moves right into my bloodstream, thanks Dee. In return, this treasured Winter Solstice Celtic blessing for you, your family and especially your brother:.

    Deep peace of the running waves to you.
    Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
    Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
    Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
    May the beauties of the earth, sky and sea
    Fill your heart with lasting peace and contentment.

    Reply
  3. RainSluice

    Your poem goes to my bones. What a gift, Dee! I’m glad you reposted it because it must have fallen out of my brain. This is not a poem I would forget – though my memory is becoming more selective. And what a gift to see your brother walk again! Sounds like a situation where you’ll stay until a new caretaker is found? But… I’m sure you can’t stay for very long. Surely you bring joy to each moment while you are there. Your energy and great cooking to say nothing of your propping up the home environment will make any space newly charged with life and magical/spritual details. xo M

    Reply
    1. deemallon Post author

      They lucked out and found someone really good. I’ll be home for Christmas. The poem was embedded in a longer more rambling post which is probably why you don’t remember it.

      Reply
    1. deemallon Post author

      Thanks Nancy! It’s so weird to watch the local weather report and look at the map knowing how close you are. Maybe the virus will be beat one day and we can meet for lunch!

      Reply
  4. cednie

    happy solstice! your poem carried a lot of meaning for me. Love how it moves internally to externally, present to future. Thinking of you as you spend time with your brother.

    Reply

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