The Annual Equinox Ball

Alice Alinari on Unsplash

Every year,
at the equinox,
all the minor Gods
congregate
for the annual ball

Every year,
Spring sashays in
oozing charm,
flashing
her thousand-watt smile,
confident in snapping
title of Queen of the Ball

Her brothers,
Summer and Winter,
arrive separately,
glare at each other,
sniff and turn away,
neither has given an inch
in their millennia long fight

Her sister, Autumn,
slouches behind,
looking disinterested

Spring spots Autumn,
leaps forward,
crushes her in a hug,
then proceeds to enumerate,
in excruciating detail,
what she would’ve done
to make Autumn look better

Eons of aggravation,
finally reach their tipping point,
Autumn shoves Spring,
and Spring enraged screams,
You’re just jealous
you never win the crown.
Autumn stomps off
Spring sniffs, rejoins the party,
glowing in her fecund finery,

Autumn, enraged,
walks off into the forest,
with her every step,
the trees weep gold-rust leaves

Finally alone, Autumn heaves a sigh,
looks at the golden path behind her,
and inspiration strikes,
she raises a hand,
the leaves fly up,
settle on her to devise
a gorgeous dress

Another wave of her hand,
and her hair dances itself
into a complicated hairdo,

Satisfied, she sashays back,
all eyes turn as she enters,
Spring becomes greener,
Autumn smiles a gentle smile

Her golden glow,
grows stronger in the dark,
while Spring became
too green to be seen,

By unanimous decision,
the crown settled
on Autumn’s head,
much to Spring’s chagrin,
and has remained there since

This is a response to the Imagà Imaginings prompt by Indira Reddy.

Image Prompt 4

For more details on the project, visit our main project page —

Imagà Imaginings 3.0