Sunday, February 26, 2012

A disappointing winter

The climber blushes against the chain link fence.
A gift of rosemary and sage sing from their stalks,
root-wet and room warm, under the trash trees arms.

So alive, with a moss underbelly electric in the
middle of February- but bloated, too. A dead
descalled fish, muscle up to damn the sharp

watching eyes of a slivered night face. The turgid
straight-backed Russian tulip shoots will die
before May, despite their present determination.