March Pothers April
The twigs of March drip,
and dangle ~ late in the day birdsong returns.
Pinched veins leach through uncurling buds,
sap thickens needle
frond and stalk.
Earthworms form oracle rings,
that rise up
from the mud to nurse the wet soil.
Iron skies shuffle their skylights.
fermenting airs soften murk
to tepid mists.
Above the hedgerows
a gloom is burying its ghosts,
At last, heedful wombs
are stirring under thicket,
berm and windbreak.
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