another solstice come

and go and some say

the last

as a grand cycle comes

to pass

three hundred sixty five

more circuits around

our nearby star

until we spin off into

oblivion

or wipe our collective brow

having dodged doom somehow

like a lucky drunk weaving through

galactic traffic

heaving and laughing

at our apparent good fortune

as the spinning continues

winners hoard their winnings

and say poor are such

for sinning