Equinox (from Night Train Red Dust)

I come to the poise
of an empty day —
after winter and before new leaf —
nothing you can see
in the north at equinox
in the trees when sap rises
and wings are passing over
no berries yet, nor needs.
The water climbs
over ice-capped rocks
and waits.
In the still frozen mud
frogs, who could have been taken
for dead, jump-start their hearts.

© Copyright, 2015, Sheila Packa.
All rights reserved.