What comes back. What we let back in. The long slow work of re-entering our own lives.

Return

A spring orbit. Something is loosening. This week we turn toward what is coming back, and what we are finally ready to let come back.

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees 

Early Spring

Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.

The Thaw

Name one thing you survived that no one saw.

I believe that no one saw that room of a Tuesday's glow, 

Bereft of people's eyes despite the room's capacity. No one could see the forceful lust of the girl who maimed me. 

But I main the ship which contains her ghost at the bottom deck, grinning with several carnal teeth to remind me of exactly where she bit.