The longer the sun (summer equinox 19)

The longer the sun is in the sky,
the longer you are not here.

When the world is dark from end to end,
the hills shoulder-firm against the rising of the light,
the space where you are not is dull.

But in the light,
shadows sharp-lined across the floor and sheets,
the emptiness is marked.

Though hope may be,
you lack.

The light bounces back

My kitchen window looks onto the back of a sheltered accommodation block. Cats prowl on the grass below. In the morning, in spring and summer mornings, in clear spring and summer mornings, the sun shines onto the red-brick walls and bounces back to light my kitchen. 

This morning I waved to the old man whose name I don’t know and he waved back. Today the reflected light shone out from his eyes. He smiled and pulled the curtains shut again. 

Three pieces about the shortest and longest days (2 by me, 1 by Karina Brink)

The shortest day beckons sunlight.
The darkest night is before the dawn.
The path ahead may be through the shadows
but even this will pass.


The longest day brings an abundance of light.
Banishes all darkness & shadows.
At night, short & sweet:
Only dreams
Of hope.


Dreams of colour, splintered light.
The darkness behind the mirror leaves us with the shortest night.
And hope slow burns.

Honoured to share a page with Karina Brink @KarinaMSzczurek