That Moment in Spring

 

Beneath the silver-speckled silken veil

of winter's end I'm wheedled in the gleam

to reckless deeds of make-believe. My dream

is lifted through an airy fairy tale

of swaying citrus-scented boughs of pine

preparing for Perséphone's debut,

when snowy trillium and bells of blue

will garnish her arboreal design.

 

As distant drumlike rumbling from the black

horizon palpitates within my soul,

the dawnlight leaves its misty residue,

and jangled pangs of longing hurry back

to paint their lyrics on the breeze that stole

my breath amidst a woodland’s blushing hue.