spring came with her multitudes
like a palm sunday procession
entered town thru the front door
walking down the street
as the soul walks from
father to mother

the bird from the town hall clock went out
to welcome her
fell over winter rags
pouring the time over people

spring
this daughter of time
put on too much perfume
her round breasts are like two strawberries
yesterday she was bathing in the lake at Giverny
Monet seeing her kissing the water lilies

seeds of clouds thrown awry
write their biography on the palm of the garden

inside of me
a wind pallor bifurcates
I am running after it
like after a snakebite.