The sun drags worlds behind it
planets at its ankles
it hauls you out of bed
into the kitchen where
spoon by spoon the sun
draws itself through your body
this goes on and on one foot
after another through the usual rooms
while stars are dropping off the map
the sun drags the pen across the page
and out the sides of your eyes
the sky spins your tears
into a poem that falls back
on graves of lovers
and gardens of strangers
the sun without fail
pulls the coat of loneliness over your arms
as you walk in your own footprints
until you reach the place
where we can read these words together
— Wyatt Townley
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,
on thimbleberries fall, peeper toads
Apex. The throaty world sings ripen.
Our grove slips past the sun’s long kiss.
We head home in other starlight.
Our earthly time is sweetening from this.
— Tess Taylor
To my left,
you, in the driver’s seat.
Chlorophyll, to my right,
through the windowglass, green tipping
to black, tipping to gold, shivering.
Green hills, further on, shading
to blue. Fuzzed slopes, lovable, rolling down down.
Awkward weeds, sprigged, not wheat and won’t feed anyone.
All is Dutch, set out for display and gain.
I’ve come to a conclusion about happiness: I want it.
You say “Sometimes you’ve got
to bust a move.” How would I do that?
Through the windowglass I can get a fearsome burn.
Thus I’m spf’d. I must earn.
On my lap, folderful of papers to which I should turn
but the sun does her thing: down down.
We don’t see her cooling, but we gain
from her careful campaign.
Goodbye glimpse, speed past,
the green consummation tracks
Lost me, lost you,
lost green hills shading to blue
and lost the valley view….
— Kathleen Ossip
Fifty wizards working in the wind
And one tall wizard standing in the rear
Made a quick sheen to lacquer all Vermont.
Up leapt the sun. The air was far and near.
The weeds, the grass, the corn, the slipping river
Made wizard quiet. My noon-sleepy deer
Whisked in the shade, saw winsome sun go over,
And still those wizards brewed the atmosphere.
The lone tall wizard opened up the west.
Sunset made its exit beryl and sheer.
Those wizards leapt like acrobats, swinging free,
Hung their thin capes upon cold Vega’s spear. . .
Galaxies were thick, weather was clear.
— Genevieve Taggard
I moved my chair into sun
I sat in the sun
the way hunger is moved when called fasting.
— Jane Hirshfield