The Equator

Swaying branches in the wind, a flurry of golden orange and melting red
backtrack from the fall to the spring, retrace the sunshine from whence it left

There is no winter here, only endless streams and currents of the air
circling the center.. returning to herald their arrival near this place again

And this time I return with them, riding the waves on the backs of dragonflies
my winged friends support my endeavour, broadening the shimmer in my vision

And so we draw closer, stars of summer and voids of frost collide
with fire and oblivion they fade from fallen passion..

They fade into the gaps between my deep and steady breaths.


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