Thick the green comes in
like fog
rolling dawn after dawn

every day a deeper shade until
the woods drip with plenty

breathe in the glory for now
just now
how many of our breaths are scented with spring?

a willing branch
catches a pink cloud
until, in the breeze
letting go

3 thoughts on “Equinox

    1. Thanks Jamie! Too bad the formatting got messed up in many people’s versions of the post. It turns out to matter more with poetry than with prose…

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