Poem: 'Spring Equinox'

Something for the Spring Equinox. I wrote this poem at this time back in 2005, and it was published in my HappenStance collection, The Body in the Well (2007).

Spring Equinox

 

The moon edges out of its pocket,

a coin ready to fall away.

The ash at the end of the garden,

black branches lean as winter

is about to sow its silver.

Chopped wood kindles

and enters the air, rises like incense

to the darkness leaning in,

makes the moon-shine thicken

to the white of an egg as it’s poached.

Sat here, I’m cured like a herring

in the smoke-house. When at last I go

inside, closed against the cold,

I’ll have the pith of the slow-burned tree

beneath my skin. I’ll be rich

with the light that everywhere

has fallen, absent-minded, from the sky.