in her dreams
she ran the lake again
and owned it once more,
the sky always bluer than it seems.
April
The sky never bluer than it seems
in easy spring,
Easter white and bird-egg blue.
My gift is me to you,
she said the date she’d
been born. What’s yours to me?
she smiled. The cherry wept
blooms in the yard. He kept
her gift in a box of thought.
Not a thing that could be bought—
a year without a fight,
dinner every night,
each day a new start,
a wild heart.
May
A wild heart rules the month of May,
the boy-girl, maypole-dancing days,
the ancient pulse of germ and birth,
in the ground and in the blood.
Leave the safety of the hearth,
drown your dry life in the flood.
Farewell breath of autumn’s being.
Welcome sweetly earth’s new greening.
Now let’s sex beneath the trees,
cross my heart and spread my knees.
Faith, to you, I give my all.
They hear the cardinals’ common call,
steady pair that weds for life,
he claims his color and his wife.
June
He claims his color & his wife,
red for mirth & red for song.
They sing their tune & love their life
and live together long.
And so our marriage, for the birds,
must seem to mimic their good match.
We suffer from the same old urge
to brood our eggs & watch them hatch.
Our young have come & gone, my love
and now we keep our quiet hours,
except when they return and move
our minds back to their youth and ours.
We loved the clamor and confusion
and savored Spring’s sweet delusion.
July
Why savor Spring’s delusion
here in the heat of summer?
deny July’s intrusion
though he be a late comer?
The feast we’ve spread upon the grass
as green as earth can ever be.
Let’s break our daily fast
as evening falls beneath the trees
where you and I have stretched our souls,
the length of oaks, our easy limbs
touching knees & breasts & toes,
happy in our venal sins.
An old-school couple couples here.
How like you this, she asks, my dear?
August
How like you this, she asks, my dear?
Though his pleasure is quite clear
as August steals July’s desire
and sets the month of fire on fire.
Sunrise late and sunset long
now so far beyond the solstice
brings its end-of-season song,
sea and sand late summer’s solace.
They climb the dunes and watch the stars
come out each lunar evening.
He looks for Venus, she for Mars.
They hear the ocean keening.
The ghost crabs flit across the beach.
The moon floats just beyond their reach.
September
The moon floats just beyond their reach
as fall sounds its early call.
The slant light arrives to preach,
again, the loss of all.
They watch another autumn come,
chill their nights & warm their days,
steal their hours, one by one,
till summer’s swept away.
They light a fire upon the hearth
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