The Solstice Is A-Comin' Poem by Frank Avon

What I want to tell you,
what I want to shout out loud
(will you hear me? will you listen?)

is

the days are gettin' shorter,
they always do, don't they?

Nobody really celebrates the solstice;
what we celebrate is

the day and the way we met
the rock of Gibraltar
what we remember about Ebenezer
(well, what I remember about Ebenezer,
where I lived until I was five)
blue jeans and bed rest
spring's first crocus
the last butterfly
cracks in the sidewalk
with grass growing in them
and a little maple tree trying
sidewalks with no cracks at all
Barbados in the morning
drinking another Mountain Dew
an ice cold Mountain Dew
singing a capella
dancing on the roof
dancing in the cellar
dancing in the dark
dancing every Sunday
dancing with no shoes on
dancing with no clothes on
dancing in the stark
dancing without stripping
dancing without stooping
dancing without stopping
dancing with your Poppa
dancing like Baryshnikov
dancing like Gene Kelly
dancing on the walls
dancing in the hall
dancing in the rain
dancing at your prom
no matter where you're from
dancing every day
dancing every way
dancing every May
dancing in the hay
dancing yesterday
dancing on the go
dancing in the snow
dancing in the velvet
dancing in the moss
dancing in the warmth
of last midsummer's eve
dancing in involvement
dancing with each thrust
dancing in the softness
of the petal of the rose
dancing to the heights
dancing till there's Henry
waiting in the wings
waiting till he crests
dancing all the night
dancing till you swoon
in the widening moon
dancing on a spree
dancing till the two are one
dancing till it's three
dancing in frivolity
dancing in the forbidden tree
dancing till you're free, free, free
dancing, dancing, dancing

dancing....

Forget the winter solstice:
respect the mistletoe.
'Christmas in a-comin' /
the goose is gettin' fat...'

Just remember that,
just remember that.