Spring

I dream of strangling snakesand wake up ready for a fight.

The children paint monsterson the sidewalkand dig into thewith small trowels

that just fitinto the fleshof their small hands.

The earth smells like an undiscovered planet.

The new green shootsare bent and leggy.

They've been held downfor an entire winter.

She rakes them backthe absence of a wedding ringon her fingerand asks me

Am I the moon? Or the seathat moves with the moon?

We are the ones that love.Exposed, like the internalspiral of a melon.

We wait in the fieldfor the knife.