Summer Solstice
A moveable feat
Summer Solstice is here. Where? We do not know. Maybe around the corner. That too, we are not sure about, because corners are also as temporary as here.
A visitor arrived today, a medic, on leave, except she did not leave. Why leave? What is better than not leaving?
She is a viking, she says, and so on Summer Solstice we must bathe in the water, and watch the sun rise. No, not merely watch, because we are Vikings, so we will literally lift it to the sky when it appears. I tell my friend we may not be here, next to the river, on June 21st.
I have another friend, a very close friend, she will be cooking for the troops on that date, in Kharkiv.* I will never forget when she was nearly hit by a cruise missile. BANG! What should I do, she said on the phone.
Run, I said. She says I swore, to give emphasis to her running, that I said, just fucking run.
But even when we run we do not leave.
old town
bomb hits —
ripples come, ripples go
Scribed for dverse
*(Take care, callsign Bunny (you lynx) I know you’ll see this, remember Kharkiv = here, see you soon)
