now cast aside by pyrrah’s glowing fire,
bereft and waste, his wild heart never tamed,
long flown away, burnt out upon the pyre
that winter's teary passion once inflamed.
apollo’s chariot climbs in the east,
and delphi’s altar calls with prayers and songs,
while chilly mortals long for summer’s feast
bewildered by sad winter’s sorry wrongs.
the spring draws near upon the roman shore,
and laughter fills the streams, an aerie choir,
while my new lover hammers at the door
seducing me with roses from the briar.
slow winter pulses quicken and awake,
and love, sweet love, will give and then forsake.