in city blooms, petals drop
falling to pavement to be smashed by tires
ground into the street our souls walk on
their soft, lilting perfume gnawed by exhaust
just like your lack of denial
as fragile as a flower in mid-spring
silence swallowed up by gray skies and wind
clear mountain view blocked; exhausted
no matter how many miles i walk
you’ll never quite capture the right moment
when they blossom fearlessly, ready to stay
exhausted only by blue skies and sun
we all need a rest
in a spring-sunny window
to close out the day
testing never ends
we March April into May
snow, sleet, hail… and hell
petals pushing through
fighting winter with color
for Testing Tuesday
though silent; sullen;
in soft flakes we see ourselves–
river-melted; lost
return of seasons
we sometimes wish had left us
(fragile reminders)
yet the buds survived,
bringing petals of new hope
that can’t be melted
a white-knuckle drive
brought my sister through the snow
back to my heart’s home
mental gymnastics:
ten more minutes with kitty
and soft pink sunrise?
or rally for work
with no soft fur or soft pink
to stretch out my day?
stretching’s a challenge
when the world can be dark
with soft beginnings
according to spring,
all blooms should be center stage,
frosting our city
but the forecast? snow.
a different white, just as soft,
but not so gentle
shoulder seasons suck.
i’ll wait for summer, sun-drenched,
blooming from within
a strip club of sorts
sprawled across a tile floor
waiting for a buck
fifteen years later
we’ve shed skin and given in
to a new season
a simple purchase
buys hundreds of outdoor nights
in this land of love
