Autumnal Equinox
it is sweet of fall
to come back again
with its heated sunflowers
tall as pleasure in a dream
and the muffled sounds of its apiaries
and apples falling to the ground with a
thunk
it is sweet
that despite all our shortcomings
the seasons still turn
the pony has been skewered again
yet autumn once more comes up for inspection
how like cavemen we become
sniffing the air for its differences
lighting the fires for our sweatered tribes
the pony is skewered again
and there’s no turning back
the black building
gets its pediment
and the jagged green feathers
seize the word Paradise on a board
not lavished with corridors
here war gets the smallest look
because what I wanted
was to give you the other stuff
the pies cooling on windowsills
the glasses of milk beside them
fresh, old-fashioned, and pure