Poems for the Equinox

2 quintas

1)

at sundown

first the snow capped mountains

then the sky and sea

turn smoky pink -

people linger on the Esplanade

2)

The woman walks with crutches -

her donkey, close behind her

carries olive branches in his pannier

carries her pace, her rhythm -

the first drops of rain begin to fall

Light Flurry of Snow

Grey sky – of an even dullness

so it looks flat

as a well-painted tin plate.

Like winter again I say to the bus driver -

oh – the last flurry before spring he says

as if he was announcing the name

of a stop on the way -

even a destination -

a ticket for Last Flurry please -

if that's as far as you are going

though I'd really rather alight at Spring.

He has light blue, sky-keeper eyes.

Snow turns to sleet

as we ride on the tail-end

of Last Flurry.

Morelle Smith