Spring*

 spring wrapped in shrouds feel the desperation 
 of my punches in our daydreams* 
 speak to us without 
 mouths bruised harmonies 
    
 your soft sounds reach but do not enter me yet 
 you are a frozen river & i a boat*
 ice-locked & vengeful
 spewing steam

 the moment your word becomes a bird & takes flight
 even rumour turns on like the truth*
 painted on a window 
 thunder pines
    
 spring you are a curl of smoke blown diagonally 
 & a forest shot through with vapour trails*
 or bullets that tremble 
 sunlight hammers 
    
 a thousand restless revolutions in your wings
 when i sleep a child is born*
 not knowing how to run 
 not in my dream
 
 & you'll come again soon like a rain of stones 
 against the doorway of my love*
 ajar but your sweetness & 
 light!—I cry out!
  
 

 Forthcoming in Southerly (3/2004)