It’s happened
The green riot of
fecundity
we call spring –
really inundation
Buds, blossoms
early flowers, cuing
the verge of
tumult
lure us
by deceit
into pollen-laden weeks
of ariel sex ––
intro
to what’s coming ––
Leaves obscure
all scaffolds, swaths
of rigid trunks, bushes
thin-limbed, curved
echoing the earth,
crotched junctions
molting dry nests ––
framing limbs beyond
sky after ––
blur
Amid
sighs of relief
unfolding of deck chairs
a din of approval
I remain unmoved
Thick leaves
darken roads ––
canopy months when
travel requires faith
in underlying order
