In Celebration of the Autumnal Equinox
Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,
the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back
from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere
except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle
of unobservable mysteries – roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This
I try to remember when time’s measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn
flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay – how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.
Thank you, Mary, for the gift of your poetry… for having the words and the insight to write of things that seem fresh yet ancient, personal yet universal.
I find myself curious and eager to see what this new season has in store. Wishing a wonderful day to all of you reading this!