Equinox
September labored ripe with heavy moon,
died in the delivering of autumn.
The blue heron's left the river
with stiff legs and hurried wings.
And now the long slender necks of
flowers bow, dropping their petals.
Sharp points against raspy ground
and wishing trees
Now burst in firey reds - Adamah
before the fall.
Raised from ash, returned
to dust
A crisp prayer whispering
at your heels.