In Spring

No orbital saturation
like the lime baby grasses
of springtime. Bath
of color, and all ballast
sinks to the bottom
of those tender shoots.

Tender like us,
though I’m not sure why
we spend so much energy
pretending we are not.

Let’s push up through
this fertile dark, exposed,
and let the long winter
deliver our bodies
to the raw green courage
of a fragile and glorious bloom.

Advertisements