Solstice poem I wrote in 1991, playing with lyrical forms. I noted the length of the day and laziness of summer by having the parted lips of dawn and dusk spread apart by a yawn. Summer is also often the season of youthful sexual awakening, paralleling the ripening of fruit. The original had stricter rhythm, but I stripped cluttering words out to emphasize image.
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Dawn and dusk are parted lips
And these are days of yawning
Skies of chalked turquoise,
Wild-willed muddied boys,
Berry-stained girls in sun
Dresses, too full to run.
These days are past playing coy.
Everything is near ripe and
Ripening, ripening!
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