fresh spring rain -
hands dark with dirt
holding an amethyst

kite-flying
how many times
someone told me to

hungry wind
kite skin
against bones

chasing rabbits?
my faithful old friend
might be flying

lightning, no moon
her name
on my tongue

i'll still sleep
on my side of the bed
when you're gone

roll up your pants
to catch the splashing
kids in underwear

little spider
on the water
rowing home

she sees butterflies -
the soft summer motions
of breath and loving

* * *

when they fly away
butterflies leave a pattern
of flutters behind

late but lingering
by the beachside door
the breeze through the screen

city sounds wake me -
calling, bathing, mating, feeding
and preening feathers

chatting for a spell -
the weather and my neighbour
her rake in her hands

* * *

she says you gonna see
she says every month - this month
is the most beautiful

the first day of may -
winter coat in the morning,
abandoned afternoon