The Season
by Cyndle Plaisted Rials
Commune with the dirt, seeker girl, sneaker
freak, meteoric on a pedal-bike,
breathing deep the greenness, the absolute life. The snow
melts perceptibly, the evening brightens in your dreams.
You leave a sigh on the countertop
and allow love to be. Spring is
quick! It flicks like pink buds in the wind
across the vast everything in sight. You open
your veins like a goddess, let that O positively
out, benefactress, baby, smiler. What’s greener
than this? Only yellow. Drip-
drying happiness in a backyard
on a clothesline that turns in the wind
like a mill. Like a million particles
of ever after, the sun fuses and burns. I call you
“girl” for sure. It is undoable.
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