Solstice

I. Summer

Such timid beginnings. He counted
every brick on the face of a building
while she looked up, searching
for words. He had wanted
to hold her hand, trace her jaw line
with his finger from earlobe
to chin. She knows the darkness
here is like nowhere else, satellites float above
them like slow-moving stars. Solitude lingers
in the darkness and then fades.

II. Autumn

He tells her rain is falling against his window.
When she looks through her own she finds
only dry leaves, already full
with autumn. Still, she tells him
if she closes her eyes, it begins to sound
like rain, begins to sound like his window.
Suddenly for a breath of a moment,
rain wind leaves swirl together
on windows. She almost feels him there.

III. Winter

The leaves have gone- snow falls
soundlessly past her window, whispering
to the trees- never speaking to her.
She walks close to midnight,
searching the darkness for satellites.
She cannot recall the curve
of his shoulder, the sound
of hello through a phone line.

IV. Spring

Suddenly she finds the ground
uncovered from months of snowfall.
Hundreds of tiny buds pushing
through the soil towards
the sky. At night she breathes spring
as she walks away
from satellites,
towards solstice.