the undoing

we suffered the darker silences of winter
only for a wood pecker to morning us too early.

the parliament of red breasted robins congregated
on the snow-tempered blades of our front lawn

lobbying for stale bread, insects and rain
to draw the worms from their buried chambers.

tomorrow will be spring and we'll pitch the tent
for airing. brushing away spiders' nests and

the vicious mildews that form inside zipper tracks.
beyond the wire-fence an equestrian strode by

the scent of the horse and honey bees flirted
with our senses from across the cranberry bog.

we made love on the edges of every surface
where neighbors could neither hear nor see

but under the stars of our blossoming march
we trickle into the light of an open arena.




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