(spring come

                       )come spring

                                    spring come wetly
                                        out the freezing serious
                                          hair o' winter come
                                            spring
         ­                                 thy greenest countenance
                                           come lathered
                                         (Spring in
                                         thy poppy and
                                           thy clovered
                                        divine thighs)
                                         O spring i,
                                       in thy many
                                        splendored love, in
                                                              ­            thy loose and carefree
                                                        ­                  shapely plush pocket
                                                          ­               ,will lay in heaped
                                                          ­              crushing wafts of
                                                              ­        june bugs and
                                                             apples and gods
                                                       (the wilting rind
                                                   of day will kiss
                                                     plummeting eve
                                                         upon the tousled
                                                         ­     breach of sky andEarth
                                                        ­     will sorely muster
                                                          ­  russet flecked charming
                                                        ­   slatterned trees about
                                                          m­y careful self
                                                            ­ )and your *****
                                                           ­     pleasant smell
                                                           ­    willto meander
                                                         ­    in the failing
                                                         ­  hues of
                                                              ­unsnowed languid
                                                         ­  hillocks
                                                        ­be most a riotous
                                                         ­ silent crudeness
                                                      a­nd i will love you most
                                                       roughly Spring
                                                         i'll tear away the careful
                                                     pretty clothing
                                                  flower­s and with
                                               your crudlovely
                                                  nake­d salt
                                                     i will
                                                               play,
                                                           ­        .
                                                               ­        '
                                                               ­     .
                                                          ­    ,

                                                          ­        '
                                                       ­   ,


                                              ,


        ­                                           .