Winter Solstice Ghazal
Tilt, then, axis, if you must forsake the sun.
Let darkness, like a sheet, overtake the sun.
In Europe’s icy woods, the Yule fires grow;
let the lambent flames ascend to wake the sun!
This day, like us, is marked with brevity.
How shadowy, the skies. How opaque, the sun.
Romans worship Saturn; druids honor stone.
We poets give ourselves to heartbreak, the sun.
Equinoctial woes thaw out of frozen screams.
Ice is fragile, but try to unmake the sun.
Those who long for heat, take heed lest you forget:
all the water in the world can’t slake the sun.
Numbed by its grip, I accept the scheming cold.
Though my body is still, my thoughts shake the sun.
Stay close to me, love, until we’re mobbed by sleep.
But who will rise first? Make no mistake: the sun.
Bio: Andrew Alexander Mobbs is a native of Little Rock, AR. In 2013, he released his debut poetry collection, Strangers and Pilgrims (Six Gallery Press). His poems have also appeared in Deep South Magazine; New Plains Review; Ghost Ocean Magazine; Calliope; The Montucky Review; The Round; and elsewhere. He was a 2014 Pushcart Prize nominee, and he co-founded and co-edits Nude Bruce Review, a nonprofit online literary magazine. He currently lives in Flagstaff, AZ.