in the sun
the strawberries pulse
like arterial jewels,
and I remember
the velvet death of winter frost.
so softly, be still now.

but I am weak,
a rotten apple
plagues the clear waters
of my mind's eye.

the pool is still
and crows silent.
lay down my lady
in her cloak of green,
the winds of spring
blow now, blow.

and I sink down in the fold
of mossy earth.
the moon winks,
that elven eye of the night