Notes of Spring

- Something curves in the wind,
a flirtation, a call to come out and play.
Something says, “father is sleeping,
he won’t see, he won’t ever know.”
Something says, “Whoops!”
And the storms come
to drown out the cries of love.

~o~

- The jackets are off.
It is 47!

~o!

- The sky is higher, bluer,
white clouds have attitude,
::pumping cotton fists:: Dandelions rule!
Is that a pussy willow?
“Why hello!” ::smooths wispy vapor hair::

~o~

- I counted the 24 stacks of ice on the way to school.
“It’s 45!”
Why aren’t they gone?
Always flurries on Easter.
This is Cleveland after all.

~o~

- The breezes are like satin on fevered loins,
the flowers like fireworks in restraint of soil,
the rains like gossips leaking memories,
teats to the hungers of the land.

~o~

- Great bellows of wind
smash the crowns of the trees,
lips curl on the pond, baring their watery teeth,
the palms rise and fall like great jellyfish on stems.