This time of year there seems to be no night;
I close my eyes at ten and open them
early at five, to find there’s only light.
Days have no end and no beginning now.
A circle with no start my life is now,
my childhood creatures popping up at night,
which is no night. And I’m too old for them.
But everywhere and anytime is light.
Watching the others in their circles, light
as they move up and down, from then to now.
We live in circles as we have no night.
Theirs flow like mine. I feel I’m part of them.