This is the day when all things are equal
and we are ambivalent about coming or going.
The river runs shallow after the summer's heat.
I stand on the bank, feet dry,
in a place where, at the solstice,
the water would have stroked my ankles.
Present time runs down now,
down to the ocean of past.
I hold my paddle and consider my boat
resting on the grass gone to hay.
audio: https://soundcloud.com/mbonica/equinox
or https://youtu.be/p-UCRVdOYCE
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