A Poem for Earth Day

April

April is the carnal month.

The forest returns with cold, wet desire.

Blades of wild leeks slice through the rotting,

remains of autumn to release sweet-onion perfume.

A ruby-crowned kinglet, his head ablaze,

sings a hurried tee-tee-tee-tee, tew-tew-tew-tu-tu-tu-tu, teedle-dee! teedle-dee! teedle-dee!

A spring beauty broadcasts bolts of hot-pink lightning through maple woods

to lure a bumblebee that sips from virgin petals.

Spotted salamanders, naked black with yellow polka-dots, slimy slithering clowns,

crawl by night to forest pools for a vernal orgy.

April forsakes only winter

and none of our senses.

With apologies to T. S. Eliot, this is a poem (well, I think it’s a poem; as any legitimate poet can tell, I don’t really write poems) that I first offered on the blog a year ago (and have since edited). But April is worthy of poetry every year. Happy Earth Day, everyone. — Bryan