[John Isbell]

Hi folks,

Here is a solstitial offering:


Solstice

The year has journeyed to its shortest day,
as we have journeyed to the kitchen. In
its warm environment, the day begins –
Judy is making porridge, and a stray

cookie has landed on my plate. About
this time, a bird sings. Rita in her gown
heads for the bathroom. In the busy town
of Boston, you’ll not find an hour without

cars in the street, en route from A to B.
Todd’s learning Spanish; all the older folk
are up, the young sleep on. When I awoke,
the sun was still abed, and now I see

it rising in the East, beyond the park.
These are the holidays. I’ve had my share
of what you might call grooming, and a fair
amount of cookies. They have made their mark.

22.xii.2017