The wind blew him in, the one I noticed
Late fall or early — does it matter, for he was the perfect shades of blue and blush
Minding his own damn business, but for feasting in my wildflower garden
I had seed to spare and time
There was not a thing more important than to study an old-new friend that day
Eastern not Western, and I knew him some lifetime before
Ice posing as something benign
Have you believing I’m only tiny daggers
Strike an unholy fear into you, I will
Begin with me the wintry journey
Dying, now that the falling is done
Come back, will you?
Taller next time
Wise enough to yield
While I command the Summer
My eyes were
Just at peace￼￼
Found their home
Looking at you￼￼
Looking at her
Your eyes were
Some new home
So my eyes were just
Just and at peace￼￼
The sliver of time before I became tragic
Was it a wicked serpent’s word
Some desired autonomy
This devotion to husband and child?
Think with me honestly
What of heart’s protracted pain
Is my sweet apple affinity
Remember the last Time
You hoped the day would come
You thought you shared the Earth
You promised promises
You knew that it would last
You felt it all collapse
What puts me on edge about Spring is it makes no promises and refuses all requests.
Without notice, it could choose the craze of a Summer heat.
The best case scenario -such bravery in risking my lust.
Or on a dime, it delivers a confused dose of wintry wrath.
Snow that won’t live to see the weekend, so why-for dear Spring?
But woe be to me should Spring choose a most deviant trickery:
And leave me longing in only the long shadows of a forever Fall.
Atop the chim-chimney, in evening’s early hours
Slow, slowly down rock, round midnight
Absorbed then disbursed by the skin of the roof before dawn
Why, oh why, can gutters steal you by sunrise