The Solstice

by W. S. Merwin

They say the sun will come back

at midnight

after all

my one love

but we know how the minutes

fly out into

the dark trees

and vanish

like the great 'ōhi'as and honey creepers

and we know how the weeks

walk into the

shadows at midday

at the thought of the months I reach for your hand

it is not something

one is supposed 

to say

we watch the bright birds in the morning

we hope for the quiet

daytime together

the year turns into air

but we are together in the whole night

with the sun still going away

and the year

coming back

Surprised by Evening

by Robert Bly

There is unknown dust that is near us,

Waves breaking on shores just over the hill,

Trees full of birds that we have never seen,

Nets drawn down with dark fish.

The evening arrives; we look up and it is there,

It has come through the nets of the stars, 

Through the tissues of the grass,

Walking quietly over the asylums of the water.

The day shall never end, we think, 

We have hair that seems born for the daylight.

But, at last, the quiet waters of the night will rise,

And our skin shall see far off, as it does under water.