Spring Equinox ’19
before the day starts,
the full Moon slowly sinks into the west,
while, to the east, a bank of clouds
announces it is coming,
throughout the morning grey clouds
interpose themselves between us and blue sky,
at celestial noon the Sun has enough power
to hint of how close it is to making a shadow,
our Sol Pole waits for the Sun to let it speak,
but the clouds hold their hands over its mouth,
we celebrate the Equinox anyway,
as I use my wristwatch to show me what the Sun can’t,
the kids still enjoy the half-vanilla, half-chocolate cookies,
inside, my tomato plants ache to be let out into the garden,
the blueberries are ready to open their blooms,
the sugar snap peas just crest the soil,
rain settles in, the cool damp of the day
mocks the bright warmth I hoped for,
the first of Spring always seems like this to me:
the hope rising form the roots
mocked by the tiredness rising from the soul.
by Henry H. Walker
March 20, ‘19
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