Summer Solstice June 21st

Where lava once poured over

rivers of rock flowed inward
towards this tawny beach.

An inlet sparkles open,
and two creeks rush with
the insistence that is water—

tumble forward, restless—
thunder of a thousand tongues.
What gift could you bring?

A song ascends the canyon of
madrone— thick with miner’s grass—

the scent of lizard’s breath
tickling her ruddy crevices—
the blood of shooting stars.