The First Days of Spring [Poem on 3-19-12]

It was in those days

when the calendar still read

winter but the remaining days

lulled the young

into drinking a sweet tea.

Exfoliating, ripping off tired layers

naked they stood facing

the sun.

The windows are open

and as the sun, who brought

spring’s illusion upon the day, sets

you see her undressing.

The shadows illuminate the

Light which is her

and all you’ve ever wanted to do is

to hold her.

In the night blankets

distract you from the

fact tomorrow you’ll wake up

still exposed to colder times.

Afraid of being reminded that

you’re still motionless

Frozen in the crystalline figures who

conglomerated in your eyelashes

a month ago freezing your

lids closed.

Until now.

—

It smells like the carnival, she said.

The dust hangs in the air

that moves between us

cigarettes and blue flints in her

eyes matched with pale skin

remind you it’s only March

and the gulls fly by.

You’ve been loving her for a

while now.

And the swollen serendipity in the

way she remarks on

the fried food, thick air

leaves you imagining her as

a child, not that she’s innocent

but you see her in youthful carousel thoughts.

They sit in the air,

and spread unguarded and

oblivious to the

dark secrets the world

has yet to tell her.

And it’s those same shadowy secrets that

she is left uninhibited.

You see him touching her, feeling her.

She doesn’t know.

The grass isn’t always greener on the other side of spring

But it was greener six months and three days ago.

You didn’t throw the pages away

You held the letters as

a calendar, a reminder

of her flowing

like her dress

through

the

tall

tall

grass.

And if she knew

That in those dances,

to the warm vintage rays

You were

loving her.

Then maybe spring wouldn’t remind you

And maybe it wouldn’t come again.