Equinoctial
Published in
1 min readMar 2, 2018
Pines twist and sigh in chorus
Each needle pulling a thread
Loose from the fabric of wind
Tattered, flailing and flitting
A wild and ancient music
Blown by long, deep and patient breaths
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New life spoken by old words
Breath heavy with the smell of sweet decay
The humus of the laughter of summer
Warm air fills my body
My soul exhales
Spring is almost here