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