Maria Hummel


Someone is turning the light
down on the world


moths go mad
with the lack


of desire


people forget to waken


but all it takes
is somewhere


a yellow field


a boy chucking
stones at a nest


of wasps


and the black alphabet


from its paper sheath


writes across his face
and hands


all the pain
for which time is




the wings
a passing train
parts from the body


we call our hearts


the rainthirst
under the eyelids


we call love


and when they are done


the sting
enters the sun


the faint day


begins to taste again
like honey


but the sad thing


the boy will be


for a long time


he was extraordinary
to survive that


with a perfect


fear of bees


that he will owe
each of his lovers


o tender


secret he whispers
to their sweat-glazed bellies


and pale inner arms
all the soft


exposed places

Maria Hummel
Solstice was first published in Born Magazine.
Poem, copyright © 2004 by Maria Hummel
Appearing on From the Fishouse with permission
Audio file, copyright © 2004, From the Fishouse