Equinox
By Paul Cameron Brown
The four Equinox sisters,
the one, Fox, streaked -
all color, a blur
a Bloomingdale's on fire,
a wedge between Everest
& her fortune.
Samantha, the other
dun-coloured
earth-tide (in full bloom),
blossoms vernally & literally
busting out of her breeches with
eyes like barely sugar.
Jubilee. Fte de la vie.
Lighthouse keeper beckoning twin
shafts of warmth. Camberwell Beauty.
Rattan Bar, shooting star.
Carraciou (and castanet) an evening song,
the most buxom but with dog days & tiresome moods
flushed with heat.
Tidewater in full ripple, a
murmuring of abstract intelligence
orchestrating summer's growth.
Emerald keeper. Silken flax
beguiling smile, wiggling toes.
A stickler for detail, she was (with endless
contortions) always in the grass.
Brumaire, evaporating vapors,
the most withdrawn &
difficult to know -
a dead leaf combed thru
wind-swept hair.
Infernally inclined, a modicum
of sparse economy idly knotting ice thru
a cadaver fence before putting on a brave show -
her stern beauty and most commanding feature, snow,
shone like almonds or stars twinkling from
an anorexic fist.
Alabaster, her prison whiteness
this Brumaire.
A clock, pier,
immovable, still.
Firing up the flashlight
in the dark like
beautiful woods sleeping.