After the Red Moon

Spring falters mid-April with a cold morning

and a sheet of snow turned to ice covers

what was beginning to sprout after the crocus

came and went. The hyacinth wilts, stunted


Yet by noon the sun warms the ground

and no further alarms sound. The cold stays

but it’s above freezing. I’m back to toting the seed

trays back and forth from the sunshine

to night time warmth on the kitchen counters


When things occur in the sky

I look for the effects upon the earth, my own small

plot of land in this place I’ve lived for a long time


Some force tripped up Spring. Now Spring’s a gazelle

leaping long-legged leaps she leaps amazingly well


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