.
.
a story,
a recollection
of 78 summer solstices
bundled in one thought
of when I was young—a carpenter
with muscles, sweating,
lugging planks from lumber stacks
to half-framed houses, stud walls
proud in sun, precise in ranks
………………………………………. a thought
that segues into a later solstice
down the line, along the way, a solstice
of love and its making, a tale
with science thrown in,
math and passion, geometry, physics—
stuff I’d read somewhere, sometime,
picked up or always known
in helical dreams, stuff that
fits and shifts, all true:
flight and gravity
Jim Culleny
5/13/19, rev:5/25/20
Blink 