Poem for Monday, May 13, 2013

Spring of Consciousness

I walk west down the street

to examine the rebirth

of everything.

To the persimmons:

I loved you before your first

leaves shriveled

into existence.

To the pollen:

you top my endless list

of necessary evils.

I wonder why some women

are smitten by cliches:

your eyes are as blue

as the sky's.

I am a walking blue-eyed cliche

wistful with a

fistful of dandelions

yellow as the sun.

I am not due a heartbreak

for six more months.