secret no one can keep
for Jean Kent
and now
everyone knows
it’s the
longer light
the mud to
life
(a theory
once)
how dare
and flirt
first thing
from the veranda
an
orchestra tuning
instruments
of bright
nor
anything regular intended
feathers
carry word (which isn’t)
insects
cone up, gyre like motes
can’t help
the odd paint splash now
flowers all
put on a show
a riddle in
the turning
how we
could come to here
woody
thickets of delve
where
nectar
parrots in
mandarin
brazen
sneak
glimpse
them wing it too
a rite?
commence
thirst
near the
zenith
throw cloud
by shade
we
seek
and shield
the eyes from glare
later in
the day
burn off
last winter piles
a season as
ever
never
before!
limber and
spit
get your
hands on it
try a
little nakedness now
dance
breeze
dusk dew
welcome
it is a
week premature perhaps
sprightly
and soon sprawl
the secret
is out
now it’s Spring!
kk
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