Equinox

The sun, riding lower in the sky

Sweeps a swifter, paler arc

In allegro time.

Spendthrift, it tosses

Handfuls of shimmering stars.

Tiny diamonds

Alight, spangling the rippled lake,

Floating, twirling, dancing,

Stirred by the first yawning breaths

Of Boreas.

Crisp, cool, clarity.

Air alive

With the bustle of change

And anticipation.

Electric currents

Of preparation.

The trees whisper to the sky:

The tipping point

Will soon be here.