Vibrant verdancy
follows fast on the heels
of late vernal torrents
May showers, this year
March
April
and many preceding
so, so gray
In general, I’d say
I like living in the gray
But that’s a metaphor
for philosophy
theology
certainly sexuality
The Inner Life
outside?
give me this morning
spring fully sprung
the sky, indigo giving to violet
as the sun nears the horizon
the greening and bluing of the day
becoming apparent
promise of a day vivid
with the color of hope
birds sing to welcome someone
give me the midsummer’s night
those sultry breezes
remnants of a day
refusing to give up its heat
covers kicked off, fan on high
whatever insects those are that click
clatter and buzz through the night
shouldn’t be peaceful sounds
but they are, so I sleep
give me Indian Summer
if we’re still allowed to call it that
summer refusing to sleep
an energetic child at bedtime
asking for just. one. more.
these are precious days borrowed
from what comes next
pretending we’re closer to solstice
than equinox
all will be well, just a while longer
out of the gray.
defying atrophy 