Open Door Fever
Spring rain falls, a curtain dropping…
(You are a world away; you are right next to me)
…drops and billows in the breeze
sparkles, splashing, between warmth and
the chill the early daffodils feel
as they sway and freeze
(We’ve reached an impasse, haven’t we?)
The pearlescent sky stretches wide as I
would open myself to recieve you —
humid and gusting, she flushes
argentine on green flustering
Timid tendrils, day moon dusting
pause through hope as
a new movement sweeps us clean.
