I await your coming for the flowers are blooming and the grass is high. The lilac branches are still bare and shivering in the laggard lion’s breath of March. They await your kiss, the Monarch of summer.
sprout from gray lilac branches --
Though all the tulips are gone having served as dessert for gophers, the worm and the grubs stir in the wet spring soil. The hyacinths have replaced the crocus’s blue, the paper narcissus now, scent the air.
red breasted robins
hop between hummocks of grass --
bird baths fill with rain
From within a green pupa, soon, you will stir. The membrane will thin, sheer as a curtain in a spring breeze, adorned in polka dots and wings. See your pin-thin limbs stir like the crinolines of spindle legged virgin daughter at first communion. You will emerge with lash long antennae ready to fly.
leaves of cone flowers
push through the brown soil of spring --
I await your coming for the flowers are blooming and the grass is high. Though the lilac branch's still bare and shivering in the laggard lion’s breath of March awaiting your kiss, Monarch of summer, butterflies born.