Happy Equinox

here I am,

cleaning out the attic

natural light shining through the lace curtains

after weeks

dewdrops sit on cobwebs, sparkling

how they got inside is a mystery, and

I suppose I have 

no desire to know 

anyway

(who knows what you could’ve done)

a thousand pink roses sit

twenty feet beneath the circular window

singing to spring, innocent

oblivious to the ghosts that we created up here

perhaps

I can be that way too, if I try

on her knees she performed what

looked to be

a genuine prayer

and I smiled at her;

religion never looked prettier

never looked better

than that very moment,

when I realized:

we could clean you out of my house together

By Courtney

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