Solstice on Railey Ridge

Smoke curls and swirls

heavenward, through reaching

branches naked white against

a dying day.


The darkest night holds in its cusp

the birth of light, slow and quiet–

an owl drifts tree to tree

and somewhere Coyote sings

a song ancient as the mistletoe,

the holly and the ivy, twining

through wisps of flame and stars.

My voice raises in timid song

weaving melody with Coyote’s harmony;

while spirits stir and listen,

earth settles into sleep.


About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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2 Responses to Solstice on Railey Ridge

  1. Libby says:

    Lovely poem. 🙂

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