Ah, the equinox ~ celestial tipping point where day and night stand, for just a moment, perfectly balanced like two old friends straddling a see-saw. Lean a little too far, and oops! There you go ~ slipping toward that inevitable tumble into winter. Frankly, I don’t want to tip. No, I want to hang right here, in the golden twilight of summer, feet firmly planted in warm grass ~ not skating on thin ice!
People say there’s beauty in winter’s starkness. I’m squinting and I still can’t see it. I'd trade all the one-of-a-kind snowflakes for just one more day of summer sun.
So here I am, teetering at the edge of the equinox, trying not to fall over. If anyone sees me slipping, a hand would be appreciated ~ but only if it comes with sunscreen.
too old to follow
geese as they happily fly
south to where it's warm


