Solstice Hopes
I’m not sure if it’s the shortened days
That douse the fire with malaise
Doubts that color vain displays
Red cheeks that the cold wind flays.
And yet I strive to soldier on
Battle with each breaking dawn
Stagger like a fallen Fawn
In defeat slow quartered, drawn.
Old trees concede the warmth I seek
The wisest owls too cold to speak
Mock the soaring hawks as weak
Call even nature’s beauty bleak
And yet we hold to Solstice hopes
As snow-blind climbers cling to ropes.
John G. Lawless
©11/19/2022
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