Equinox
as the light fades out and the seasons change
a stirring, barely felt.
a whisper, carried windward.
a first blush, shy and tender.
september, O september!
Mushrooms erupt, escaping their magical mycelial kingdom below, eager for a brief moment in the sun. Popping up across field and forest, a vibrant portent of decay, exploding after the rain, and bringing with them a piquant musky odor. Rain, gloriou…
