Equinox

A radiant rising
In readiness for a gilded mourning.

For a fraction of a fraction of a second
Night and day will stand

Precisely aligned
Perfectly opposed;

The season a bright gold penny
Balanced on its edge.

And in the fraction of a fraction that follows
We start the long drop into dark

From which we wonder
If we will ever emerge

And if we do
What kind of world we’ll find.

So I let our falling star
Copperplate my limbs and face

Breathe the newly sharpened air
Allow myself one more glance back;

The last day of a summer
That never truly was.

2 thoughts on “Equinox

  1. I’d rather be facing a SoCal winter than a Sussex one, believe me…we’re on heavy clay land here and although it’s baked hard as concrete at the moment, a couple of days’ rain is enough to turn it into a clinging, glutinous mud reminiscent of a Great War battlefield. And everything you’ve ever read about England’s grey, mild, damp weather is true: we don’t have snow any more here in the south. N.

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