As the days get longer
We give up our promises
And sing in different
Voices than the ones we had agreed to.
Basking in warm winds from distant
Lands and times where scents distressed
Fermented to the sweetness of indolence.
The wind can make your bones feel
Invisible, your brain at rest,
Suspended on an updraft;
Muscles bathed in honey,
Dense and weightless on the softness of the
Air, the streets are waking up
And breathing, start to murmur to you.
Fill your hearts with prickly stimulation as the vibrancy
Is born again against the death that
Dies away beneath your feet, all buoyant on the crispness of a
City street in Spring.