The Fall of Equinox 2020
by Angela Taylor
It's lonely up here in my beautiful woods alone.
Missing motherhood, accelerate to crone.
Eyes fill with shadows of smoke and flames.
The ask was not to own, demand or govern,
but hear the animals' names.
How many miles did we run down the wrong road?
Curating stories never meant to be told.
Looking left and right for a voice I recognize.
In place of bold truths
Fearful, selfish, tired lies.
"This" is no more, but it's not yet "that."
Haze so thick, the horizon is flat.
Desperate for joy, my heart fills with sorrow.
I am losing hope for tomorrow.
But it isn't tomorrow yet.
The call from the ancients arrives in verse:
Be you
Here
Now
Out in the world,
Today.
To this request I say
Yes.