Solstice

A dog yells intelligibly

across the neighborhood—something

                        in the firmament

                                    has changed.

You come out of the front door

wearing the longest

            sundress of the year—

                        I love your legs underneath

                        your breezy kneecaps underneath.

I think to inquire

            how many evenings

            are folded in the folds

            of your dress.

The dog drops his howl. You

            reply like a dream, “it gets shorter,

                                    only shorter from here on out.”