September Equinox

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September, the month with the beautiful name,
you balance the world on a knife’s edge.
You juxtapose green and gold,
pliant and brittle, and fly them together
in a breeze that whispers warm memories
and cool anticipation in alternating breaths.
While flowers sleep, the fields come alive,
and gardens with heavy tomatoes sigh.
You lay fog at our feet in the morning, and
place the moon and sun on each of our shoulders,
the sun soft, the moon bright against the blue,
and light and dark on a scale with
neither found wanting, the universe a doting parent
to give each equal attention for a day.
You show us the glory of dying
in an explosion of color,
in loving red, hopeful gold,
joyous orange.
You remind us now is our time,
each moment our moment of glory.

Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul

Monday Poetry Prompt: Equinox
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Published by lisaapaul

I’m a paralegal, a widow, mother and grandmother.

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