Solstice
by Jane Hirshfield
The Earth today tilts one way, then another.
And yes, though all things change,
this night again will watch its fireflies,
then go in to a bed with sheets,
to lights, a beloved.
To running water cold and hot.
Take nothing for granted,
you who were also opulent, a stung cosmos.
Birds sang, frogs sang, their sufficient unto.
The late-night rain-bringing thunder.
And if days grew ordinarily shorter,
the dark’s mirror lengthened,
and one’s gain was not the other lessened.
Hear me read and discuss why I selected this poem for classes in June 2026.