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A Poem for April
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April is the carnal month.
The forest returns with wet desire.
Fresh blades of leeks slice through rotting remains of autumn
to release sweet-onion perfume.
Spring beauties, bolts of hot-pink lightning,
lure bumblebees to sip from virgin petals.
A ruby-crowned kinglet, his head ablaze,
sings a hurried tee-tee-tee-tee, tew-tew-tew, teedle-dee! teedle-dee! teedle-dee!
Spotted salamanders, slimy black, yellow polka-dots, slithering clowns,
crawl by night through naked woods to forest pools for a vernal orgy.
And through the drama you and I walk
the world ripe with promise.
It forsakes only winter,
and not one of our senses.