Coming From Within a Rising Hedge

Coming from within a rising hedge Of voluptuous white oleander – I sensed a turmoil; one writhe Seduced better than before And within the naked boughs Of some palo verde – in a rustle Of few leaves – I thought I saw Among them a potential So quick and sullen, I almost not Deemed it worthy a mention Until a lone grackle squawked That vernal suspicion Then the wind flirted with a sage Whose mane shimmied – fervid – As if the breath of Earth had encouraged Spring to dance for him.