equinox never knocks she simply slides right in twice she visits twice she brings the seasons swishing, slipping, skipping, with her swinging skirts in first she springs the bringing through of the new across the ley; she sprays the soil with seeds and breathes the length into the day she never measures summer's pleasures in the greening round the blue but keeps clocks in rocks with gold cast long through stones over bones barrowed down and strewn all around the ground when thirteen weeks have come and gone she marks it for the nonce attending in the henge with the ever-present blackening of crows to caw the end of growth and bringing in of bounty her second visit's one I dread knowing soon the path I'll tread will whisper with the fallen as the wind is calling for the baring of the land equinox, paradox without their watch I'd never mark you never keep you, never know the need to break the seasons into reasonable quadrants unless they told me so