Solstice

I notice both the the birds and I are still lately, conserving our energy in the cold. I console myself with books, and reacquaint myself with fate. The darkest days of the year are behind us, or so I hope.

Lullaby
My little lack-of-light, my swaddled soul,

December baby. Hush, for it is dark,

and will grow darker still. We must embark

directly. Bring an orange as the toll

for Charon: he will be our gondolier.

Upon the shore, the season pans for light,

and solstice fish, their eyes gone milky white,

come bearing riches for the dying year:

solstitial kingdom. It is yours, the mime

of branches and the drift of snow. With shaking

hands, Persephone, the winter’s wife,

will tender you a gift. Born in a time

of darkness, you will learn the trick of making.

You shall make your consolation all your life.

by Amanda Jernigan