Stillness of July

After summer solstice
there is sudden silence,
as if the birds can sense
the dirge of darkness,
they have ceased to sing.

And as the neighbors flee
we try to fill our void
with heat of music,
wine and barbecue.

But even if the dusk is bright
we feel in stillness still
an absence of what’s past.

A piece of our garden

The sound of summer for Michael at toads. I have used some of the words from the list.

July 6, 2017

25 responses to “Stillness of July

  1. This touches me because I’m with my mother this week — missing her being young and healthy, missing my dad being alive.

  2. I feel similarly, filling up the spaces with music….wistful thoughts of the past…
    I think summer for me is what autumn is for some people, when I am very contemplative, especially during the dog days…

  3. Beautiful garden…. This takes me back to summer mornings with my sisters and my mother sitting on our tiny back porch.. My mother loved to hear the birds. I wish I could go back to that moment and take the coming doom of her Alzheimer’s away from her.

  4. Both dark and peaceful; you have painted a place where the poet heart runs free in the silence. Charming garden – perfect for wine.

  5. The silences of summer. Well considered; impeccably worded. Behind the words I read the dread of someone who has lived in the North and knows what darkness approaches after solstice. Do you think the birds know… and mourn?

  6. I enjoyed reading your poem.You have my follow. If you have time you should check out some poems on my page. I think you’ll like them! Cheers!

  7. This, though well written, was somewhat disturbing to me. Though I may be down and out now, Summer has always been the height of times to me. (maybe my feelings was your goal)

  8. My mother so enjoyed watching the birds and feeding them. My mother dying brought a melancholy to this summer. This poem reminds me of how much I miss her.

  9. The sibilance in the opening lines works so well and kind of fixes the silence – only to be broken by the summer sounds:
    ‘…heat of music,
    wine and barbecue’.

  10. The absence of sound brings with it a note of melancholy. Perhaps they are nesting or raising young – no need to sing for a mate or territory in late summer.

  11. Nothing is ever as full as we imagine that it was – or will be, when it comes again. I suppose that is a big part of the naked truth, we spend our lives grappling with.

  12. I feel lucky – the birds here in the NC mountains are still alive and well – the Blue Jays were particularly rowdy today and were rather noisy. Your poem speaks of things missing – of memories…

  13. Your poem seems perfect…nothing left to say when you have said it all. “The absence of what is past,” is very touching, something most hide from.

  14. Your poem does have a wonderful melancholy timbre. I don’t find that there are fewer birds here after the solstice but may be different in upstate New York than Sweden–we are lucky to have a lot of birds–of course, around the solstice the tree frogs are deafening. Lovely poem! I will be getting back to you this weekend re other thing! k.

  15. Richness in the stillness – the quiet wonder of why, in “suddens” – an intangible, untraceable moment that separates now from then, then from now, all in wonder, how fast, and how come, and then, the mind trying to settle in the unsettled of what’s next.

    Lovely piece Bjorn.

  16. Hi Bjorn – sorry for being so late to reply. I’ve been so busy this month. This pen flows superbly, a sort of point / counterpoint with the diction and assonance / alliteration, and pace, all serving the sense of melancholia ~

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