leave me to the equinoxes
of
language
time
existence
.
the in-between seasons
the ultimate transmutations
seeds that sprout and fields that crop
.
winter rigidity and hibernation
warmed by a slight whisper
.
spring begins with the chirp
of awakening
of fertility
of planting
for potential harvest
.
words dancing about
in the pastel breeze
.
matching the auburn baby hairs
that flit all around
your face
you
and the garden you create
.
waiting to be braided
weave them together
.
the teasing out of language
like
brushing the sweaty bird’s nest
released from atop your
summer solstice head
.
knots to un-tie
and
strange
sticky
clumps
to comb through
.
fall caressing summer
its cool breath
easing the swelter
and fervor
biting at the idea of harvest
of rest
.
warming your evenings
with a fire you can
sit by and
not sweat
.
no need for pants
a sweater and some
birch wood will do
.
language for
equinoxes
and in-betweens
seasons
moments
words
.
the moment
the season
the language
the equinox squeeze
.
that
transmutes you
.
that
makes your head function
About the Creator
Erin Lucas
she/her
Multimedia Creator, Writer, Educator, Nonprofit Organizer
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