i float through spring on my eyes
chartreuse
red, purple
and
gold
errant, precious dandelions, i adore you
grape hyacinth, moss, catkins, i witness you like reverent time-lapse, like it’s my last spring / is it?
i listen for chorus frogs and woodcocks at twilight, i heard you both tonight
i watch deer roam in forage for hours/ i watch for owls for hours, praying for their roost here – til there’s no more light and i strain my eyes
where did this city girl learn her patience/ ah /
i am patient – only-children hone in, observe/ our solitude, attention is god-like, our currency is to witness, listen and create
but i am also feral, enchanted, propelled and debauched by the colors, sounds and sex
of spring
no one’s here to call me in / and i forget to eat til i am
ravenous or ravishing (my favorite malapropism)
but the mud, my knees – and my hips
remind me
that i am also
moored, cold and full of aching longing