Equinox
        "In some cases, a succession of colored arches,
        of a reddish purple ... are seen within the primary
        rainbow. These are called supernumerary rainbows."
        -Humphrey Lloyd

I can never remember which is which,
what switch of seasons is equinox or solstice.

I do know that on this 21st day, the continual
round of this planet's roam shifts about its axis,

and you, penumbra!, bruise its orbit in purple
arcs. The curve of each year twists tight the key

that winds the brash metronome of ritual. We
wanted to swing each turn, feet winging out flat

against the chasm with candles held in our teeth.
Dripping wax to mark the revolution—trickling

this sweep, these tilted-Ferris wheel seasons, with
some drizzling, ridiculous, unreasonable reason.

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Copyright © 2016 Carmen R. Gillespie All rights reserved
from The Blue Black Wet of Wood
Two Sylvias Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission