So, it is the summer solstice in the Western Hemisphere. The longest day of the year. I went for a walk with my wife this afternoon. It was gorgeous and blue, with clouds that looked like they belonged in an oil landscape.
I love this day. The promise of light until late in the evening. It makes me want to stay awake forever. Write. Sing. Draw. Go for a run. When I was younger, I used to call winter my favorite season of the year. Now, it's summer. I think that transition happens with age.
Saint Marty has a poem tonight that makes him think of the summer solstice.
The Sun Has Wept Rose
by: Arthur Rimbaud
The sun has wept rose in the shell of your ears,
The world has rolled white from your back,
Your thighs:
The sea has stained rust at the crimson of your breasts,
And Man had bled black at your sovereign side.
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