wings sweep across the sapphire sky
slipping into currents unseen
raising temperature and faces
sunward into vernal hopes
of Aprils softness and fury of green-
ing buds rising swiftly
into a sapphire sky
swept with wings
and wild song
a door opened to the past
bringing the scent of White Shoulders
and honeysuckle soap from lives lived a long time ago
memories sweet as perfume are all I keep
tucked into linen handkerchiefs edged in lace
I no longer open the door to sadness
or welcome grief when it comes to call
Instead, I send them off with stories of Grandmere’s buttermilk biscuits
Mamma’s stirrup cake covered in hot fudge
and laughter at the snap of dominos on the dining room table.
Dusk lingers on this early Spring evening
before Easter vigil begins,
the time in-between life and death
and life again.
I cover the tender lettuces again
to save them from certain death.
Life is that way, isnt it?
A cycle of little deaths, after life, after death
and then the sun shines again
and we all raise our arms to the sky
giving thanks for today
before the in-between time
on this Good Friday
a lone singer
of early morning moonsongs
sang me awake
their warbling tune
by a chorus
hidden in lush bamboo
then joined too by the sound of the kettle
and a small dog tip toeing across the kitchen floor
so much in a morning
so much in a song
we are all April fools
are we not
when chill winds blow upon the water
cascading spent blossoms of pink and white confetti
into the sunlit air
how could we have been so suckered in
by that impossibly warm day in March when the ground
was covered in violets and the bees were already
at their dance
April smiles wide in her buttercup gown
all sunshine and pheromones and sweet kissed skies
as we cover the tender lettuces
with old sheets and pillow cases
to soften her frosty night
one more time.
With reckless abandon, Spring sweeps in
drifting acid green pollen in her wake.
She scorns the late winters chill
riding bareback and bare footed
into the robin egged morning.
What joie de vivre!
What carpe diem!
What sweet mysteries of bloom and bud
are whispered from her tulip petaled mouth!
She dazzles the bees, drunk
with their golden wares
all knapsacked to spill before their queen.