Of the seasons,
seamless, a garland.
Solstice
to equinox –
days,
measured a cock’s stride
come full circle.
The length of
breath,
a sequential foliage
firmly planted in
our veins,
we stand in our rayed form:
blue-eyed,
a chicory,
Sponsa Solis – & upon the sun appears
a face
also with rays
in descent
through an undulant
blue.
Ronald Johnson (1935 – 1998)
Secret Gardener 
Beautiful!
Charming & sensitive. Thank you.
Thank you, Lynne. I have been hyper-aware of neglected poets; some more unfairly neglected than others. I did like ‘length of breath’.
—And it’s surprisingly difficult to find an artist intelligent, articulate, or educated who has something to say about the solstice.
I never doubt Flegel. He is ALWAYS sensitive and often charming.
Happy new year
Hi Cassie, Thank you for the beautiful images and poetry through the year. The title of this post, From the book of the green man, reminded me of this image I collected recently. I thought you would like it. Michelle