THE SHORTEST DAY
The shortest day rolls away like a brief lament
in a book near its end, and my, how it's flown
in the reading my friend!
Even as we mourn for the light
half blinded while waiting for inky night,
we celebrate with incantation as if
there's fear in the shortness of it, like dying breath
on lips that talk of its passing away.
A celestial hound sniffs amongst leaves
on its stately journey around the sun,
no sooner said nor more quickly done.