Solstice

The soul rises from the south
searching for the sea
falls into the ice
burning, too late to turn

back, the days stay
long, the soul no
more may sleep
in its own heat

and stands still
at this very moment
9:14 am
on a Tuesday overcast

morning, the soul
invisible behind
its clouds
this year

the soul loiters
in no hurry
hesitates
hot and heavy

as if it just
ran a marathon
or swam in a surf session
there on the beach

under a prismatic
eye-catching umbrella
people from miles around
gather in its shade.