I celebrated the September Equinox with a virtual visit to Charles House to talk autumnal poetry with the folks there. We spent the last fifteen minutes composing one of our own and it turned out pretty good so I stole the best lines for the poem below.
September 22nd
Sunset leaves drift to ground
silent in the equinoctial dusk
our footfalls disturb their rest
crunching— scattering— releasing
that crisp aroma of earth and death
We are tethered to the past—
raking rusty piles
tumbling into joyful beds
as time drags us down
from branches— from childhood
from summer noon
to autumnal twilight
as winter stars
rise in the east
