spring’s impregnation

spring flowers





like lead on paper the tactile scratch

of winter rakes her rusty back


dusting each day for fingerprints

our only hint that somewhere near


she hides. like water in the well

down under, below within


where the moist and rich grows

before making its appearance, sacheting


across a dark-soiled stage where

dirt crawls up her dress and


spreads her limbs, surrounds her cracking skin,

pushing until she explodes in climax of more


but for now, shivering haunches huddle

encased in dead and dying promises


night and dark have outwrestled

her brighter self, denying ascension


in her tomb of untouched virginity

she longs in unrequited passion


and, donning the satin sash of evening,

the smoky grey of night blows her tender kiss


to the shameless, bright day

and whispers, “adieu.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s