Monday, March 21, 2011

For the Vernal Equinox


And so it comes
In brackets and seed packets,
The even-ing of night and day
Until the dark relinquishes
To light’s burst of speed.

It comes in shoulders straightened
And heads up to look around,
The layers peeled off like onion skins
Shedding weight and gaining speed
To join light’s race.

It comes brown and wet,
Strewn with uncovered remnants
As if a party trashed the house.
It may look like aftermath,
But it is only the end of waiting.

It is the beginning
Of the fulfillment
Of hope.

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