I thought at first

the cataracts had come back –

the sun glinting cold and yellow

over the courts into my eyes

brought the Boll glasses

out of the tennis bag.

I kept missing overheads

and it stayed that way

the entire morning.

Nor was noon much better –

the sun still low and stuck in time

as I drove on the causeway

to and from

the mainland mall holiday madness,

gray Gulf and sky,

whatever was left of day

shrouded in jaundiced twilight.

So that for once

I was relieved to see night begin

with Venus burning bright

and low like a jetliner

and even lower on the horizon

the thin crescent of moon

slivering into renewal.

From darkest day

had come most shining night

and on this longest night

of my longest year –

the promise

of ever-brightening days

waiting to rise

above my horizon.