My mind wanders down the lane
on a workaday afternoon,
refusing to spreadsheet the day-
instead I watch freshly washed sheets
of clouds spreading across
the blue blue
I gather the rolling stone
stacking the minutes until quitting time
into cairns of data
and emails left to their own devices.
Turning down less traveled roads,
listening to the birds sing
instead of hearing the shrill ringing
of bright blinking lines.
I feel the light spring breeze on my face
and close my eyes
she couldn’t stay still.
Pacing wall to wall,
she could almost smell the damp earth
under the frozen crust
as the sound of sleet
echoed against the fossil dimpled stone.
Her thoughts drifted to warm dawns
filled with perfume of sweet grass
and whining of midges-
her breath quickened
with the rising sap
tapped deep under the winters crust.
She could hear green things
begin to stir,
bulbs burgeoning with embryonic april.
A blush rose from her breasts
to pink her cheeks,
leaving her face glistening
with the heat of june afternoons.
A carpet of green followed in her footsteps
as chamomile and bluets
bloomed in her wake.
Climbing with each change of shadow,
anticipation springing from the tilted axis,
she rushed to greet the vernal wood
in rapture of spring.
when the pavement sings
that blacktop song
and the top is down
on the first really warm day of spring
swinging west into the sunshine
as the thunderheads roll
onto the fetching fields of desire
hands stretch and caress those first drops of rain
pulling the living moisture
into the awaiting fertile earth
risking the threat of surge and flood
to lie beneath the heavy spring storm
only the thought of
pollination and ovaries
are on anyone’s mind
who has driven into the clouds of billowing
and been confounded with the humming