Solstice.

The clustering Matariki fades, as twilight dawns,

On the beginning of the shortest day.


The night dies and a black tailed fantail dances

in the indigo, indistinct.


Warning of the end of the

relentless, gradual, loss

Of light.


We wash in the salt water of sun rise.

Cold and fiery tears to rinse our bodies

Of darkness.


A regular renaissance.