Equinox 2018

By John I. Blair

Summer’s gone.

The sun no longer
Burns the land.

Birds flock to feast
Before they flee
Or hunker down.

Squirrels grow thick fur.

I’ve built a hut
To house the cat I feed
Upon the patio.

Three months remain
Before the solstice
But we never doubt
That it will come.

Nights stretch long
Until that final night
When our frigid world
Slowly turns
Toward spring again.

©2018 John I. Blair, 9/27/2018