March 21, 2005

Holidays : Vernal Equinox.

Days drawn from the lips of the sun, kiss grown long and longer across the
sky. Days drawn from her lips restlessly parted, spiraling hesitation--now warm,
now cold and harsh as lace. Draw her lips across the hill, the sun between her
teeth, a new fruit still bitter, small. Split the sun, chapped and rushed, from
now on it is even, growing round and ripe.

Yesterday was both Palm Sunday, and the Vernal Equinox. And, as per usual for this time of the year, I'm busy beyond busy. I may not be writing as frequently as my thesis work intensifies over the next several weeks. I will try my best to keep up.

The vernal equinox. Ah, spring's beginning. The featured link of this post sends you to's article on the day and its celebrations in various traditions. Meanwhile, March is still in full lion garb, here. I'm longing to wear skirts and sundresses again, but soon enough. I can wait a little longer. For now, I apologize for the brevity, but hope you enjoy the free-written prose-poem that opens this post.


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