The body is possible in spring
No need to coop up inside oneself like a Russian doll
No need to pleat the skin, no need to bury oneself
under the earth, no need to rush headlong out of
winds and chills, into rooms where people babble
and pass infection

The tulip stems are an umbilical cord, rooting
me to the great mother. Red to deep brown,
the blood rooted in the body of us all

The optimist in me is reborn in ether
and shades of unblemished blue

Deliver me into this becoming –
into this earth, into this awakening

I want to be reborn from a dust storm of pollen
April my renaissance, my rebirth and resurrection

A column of pure fire, I will wade into a field
of amaranth, bearing armfuls of sunshine,
my hair unbound

Along the vale, crocuses are opening
I am ready to bear fruit

the butterfly

You came to me in May, trembling
     like a bud, your wings fluttering
          (your window-wings, wings of glass)
          though you alighted effortlessly
               as if in a dream.

Having been so blessed with flight,
     what possessed you
     to land on my own trembling finger?
          (perhaps setting in motion

Into this blue promise I go sailing
with my arms outstretched in welcome
Into this soft green light I am remade
my heart quite full but not bursting

Here is a place where time takes its time
padding along with gentle feet
In this watercolor world, anything is possible
even the flowers, their glorious outpouring of color

I think the trees & wind must be good friends
they bend to the other’s will; they listen
I think they have pleasant conversations
gesticulating wildly

Among people, time marches past you,
scattering and dispersing thought fragments
It bores quickly, opening and shutting doors
making a loud, misshapen fog

I think of how the trees looked in the winter,
the poor things, starved and bare and horribly lonely
As though they’d been electrocuted, turned into
beggars with hungry arms, pleading the sky

Now it is impossible to feel sorry for them
Things are satisfied in the spring,
asking and seeking nothing

Only the cars stir here

Only the cars stir here
     silent and unbidden
          always rushing to the better world,
               the solid, whirring dream

Two birds appear on the street
     soft and brown-bodied, the first two
          creatures of spring, alive and daring
               leaping into the thin, grey air

Piles of snow sit dirty and unsifted
     I stare with my dull, accusing eyes
          where my gaze lands, all is turned to gloom
               I may have lost the meaning of warmth

For all here in this afternoon light is forgiven
     I stand immobile at the center of a great change
          Though I do not feel it, I know the planet turns.
               I do not know what makes a spring rain so welcome

Or the first buds of green on trees so companionable
     only that slowly and heavily the veins of love will open again
          and I shall be filled with the welling pain of something like nostalgia,

     of something
          like warm rain.

April is the Cruellest Month

Although I’m of the humble opinion that March is worse. It’s the greyness at that time of year, that sagging, slowly aching greyness that really gets to me. Sky the color of a muted, phlegmatic sea on a sunless day. The unmelting, dirty, relentless snow.

March was probably the busiest month for me, what with having to plan everything for school next year and trying to find opportunities for summer a boatload of important tests and assignments on top of it. However, I did manage to get my first poem published in Canvas Literary Mag! And then a few days after that I received an email telling me that is going to appear in the print edition of Teen Ink! I know these aren’t huge publications, but they’ve managed to restore my faith in my ability to write for the time being, and it seems like such a big accomplishment for myself. Trying to not compare myself with others and only focusing on my own personal measure/scale of self-improvement is still a work in progress.

Anyway, I’m so glad the snow is finally starting to melt a bit around here and sunlight is making itself a familiar face again. Spring is coming surely, if not swiftly (and even if there still aren’t any lilacs breeding out of the dead ground). I hope you all are doing well! I hope this month I’ll be able to find the time to blog more often.