Swollen nubs on leafless branches
still quiver in the gusty chill
Spring rises within them, as if by will
and a deeper reach for the sun
Above the snowless rooftops
the waving hair of bare brown limbs
sway on a breezy day and bright blue sky
deceives the eye with a glint of summer
As passing clouds hide the warming beams
one wraps more tightly and cold dispels the dream
but it is in the momentary pause before return
we understand how gentle the touch
of that fearsome burn, the star that loves us.
It touches soft, and invites green grasses
and daffodils and other shy captives of winter
to rise and be free. For a moment, it seems odd
we do not have a name like Mother or Dear Friend
are we so ungrateful, is the tether not so real
to be felt and seen?
There is a remedy, dearest nearest star
I will call you after the feeling you bring in spring
when the chill rises to skin and you kiss it away-
you are my distant lover this day, and in summer
we will talk again, about the winsome Moon and faithfulness,
and you, moving in...
No comments:
Post a Comment