After the Solstice

. . . I am drugged with the expectation

of lilacs in bud and robins nesting again

in the eaves. But for now,

the cold is my epiphany,

and darkness my star.

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

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