you contour
into imaginations and fold (like spring
creasing)

swimming through the
amalgamations and
smiling (like summer
ceasing)

wandering the paths of
lilac, lily layering—
a feeling (like winter
releasing).

The sun is already warming
the first arousal of morning
but my lover is traveling the hills
and valleys of her dreams still.

Sweetpea knows the sounds
of my awakening and abounds
onto the bed’s corner place
where I read my first daily stirring of grace.

She knows of all the places she could land
it is here she gets the glide of my left hand
my hand across her soft brown coat she is well-versed
for she knows this time of day she is first.

“Feline First,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier

Pondering whence the Sun will harmless lay,
Hurting, no more the beauty, I array.
Inkling to destroy two months away,
Little did he know.

Ice melts slower than snow,
Peaceful rivers begin to flow.
Indeed i speak the truth,

Letting biting cold do my will,
Out i look, upon many a blue hill.
Vines have ceased to entwine,
Entranced, frozen in frosty time.

Utterly desolate, purely divine.