After the Solstice

Every day, more light, they say, and yet

sky smothers earth like an old pillow.

Squirrels hide in clumps of leftover leaves.

Trees inscribe eternal winter on the roofs.

–Excerpt from “After the Solstice” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Flint Hills Review.

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