equinoctes

times three: this is how our story begins

(not with a pang, but a whisper: the breath

moved through by diaphragm, vocal cords splayed,

echoing four or five words to save our souls).

a brow furrows itself gilded by its reflection,

an uncommon referent gliding between hands and

pursed lips. horses in grass, a lilac cosplayed,

opening its petals for late-season pollinators:

irregular sweat bees, an industrial hummingbird,

all out seeking october's nectar. a kitchenmaid

stance: night shading an open, expectant mouth,

eager to separate loculi and suck seed and pulp.

who could forget the moments of mirrored luck

and draped limbs, limning a sought-after tone:

the whirr, fast forward and rewound, replayed

as if to find the same tidal rock to cling to.

new lunar shoulders beaming through branches

of the almond grove, itself awakening from a

long winter. the longest spring amidst the

shortest daze awaits on the horizon, unafraid.

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note: work in progress
lastmod: 2024-11-11

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