
St. John’s Eagle
On June 24th
Rites of ancient solar cults.
Witches dance
Over cross-roads at night
Vanishing at dawn
When the fire ball, the Sun,
Purifies worn-out thoughts
Spinning inside
The inward glittering eye.
Hot mist around
Lazy Locusts
Drawing their creaking,
A chant reassuring:
Summer has come again.