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Frederick Wilbur



      Where the equinox finds us
      so do yellow jackets flying underground
      quietly preparing for shorter days,
      but we provoke them with our last
      mowing. We admire their fierce defiance,
      their epitome of nuisance,
      and matching their sting
      we throw words down in anger.

      Bless the winter’s white anger,
      the wind’s stoning sting,
      drifts of regret, of nuisance.
      Let us revel in our brave defiance,
      making love until our very last,
      music fading into shorter days.
      We will chisel bright names underground
      where the equinox will find us.