Tricked a dozen times, outwitted by CO2,
spring fell into our arms exhausted on a late April’s
Saturday just in time to save
the buds still lingering, the daffodils still drooping
from spring’s last failed birth.
Spring fell exhausted into our arms, and truth
be told, we were tired too, minds’ eyes
still glutted with scenes of fresh corpses
under desks in Virginia.
How long-waited you were, gentle friend,
how long you were longed for,
by bare-toed feet apatter
of girls too young to know
how wrong this long wait was.
You burst in all at once, tresses swirling,
no time for slow caresses. Your sun
warmed still-bare branches, your urgency
left me breathless. Tricked a dozen times, oh gentle friend,
faithful till the end.