hoping she understands
that poem was a little hasty
i don't even know if she knows
how she feels
about me
hoping she understands
why i blush every time her name is mentioned
why i scribbled those world-heaving words
and handed it to her with a trembling hand
hoping she understands
why
because
my heart
definitely doesn't.
robin,
oh robin,
do you hear the window scream
each time your sunshine-tipped beak
tries to kill its silvery panes?
robin,
oh robin,
do you see the tiny cracks spiderwebbing,
the moon's silvery-gray hair
falls in shadows across her face
her pupils waxing and waning
straining
to catch a glimpse of her girl,
her beauty, her sunshine
her pale lips remembering cinnamon warmth
it is april 4
the official beginning of spring is long past us
vermont was ready for spring before that,
our grayish-green sunlit adirondacks forcing the clouds
to hold in their snow and rain and part
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