A flight of fancy to celebrate the equinox. It’s officially Thursday, but the sun here, according to my cell phone, is up 12 hours plus 4 minutes today.

Royalty

At winter solstice, nature’s new year,
the one plants honor, I become
Queen of the Night, with pages,
blank or inscribed, for courtiers
who urge me to exile the to-do list,
intention’s nagging inversion.
I visit the day only to restock
my supply of wine and chocolate.

My rule ends at the equinox,
when Queen Persephone returns
from below, living green takes over,
I become servant, day-worker,
watering, feeding, trimming plants,
attendant to the majesty of growth.