After the Solstice

What is he thinking
As he watches the snow fall now
Outside the sky-like window
Of the exotic bakery?

It is past the solstice now:
The abnormal days of rain
Swept behind us; part of the tunnel's memory,
Part of the inflatables

And the three swinging snowmen,
Mechanical electric deer,
Heaped plates and platters, desserts and promises,
Mountains of bright paper, boxes and bows.

We drove headlong into the dark sea,
Guided by the rushing world, oblivious to war
And carnage, wrapped in our
Excelsior thoughts.

Unimaginable foreign lives
Passed like insects, their unique fates
Flickering like common miracles
Glimpsed through a yawn.

There is a stonecutter nearby
Who built a solstice cave of stone.
For one week only, and only on immaculate days
Blue as pearls

Could one sit and watch the light
Enter the carved bird's mouth,
Sound the note of rebirth, until the lengthening bar
Resumed the shape of a human form.