Equinox
autumn breezes
through my open window
another day of hoping
a still evening—
teenagers out, we decide
on skinny-dipping
overnight,
these first golden stars
fallen to the gutter
our unmade bed
coiled with serpents
of regret
morning birdsong—
light creeps through
grey foliage
enamelled flowers
pinned to black velvet—
her long ago spring
lifting cloud
lit from beneath
by a tangerine sun
Julie Thorndyke