So there you are,
pushing up snow-pink Magnolia
thirsty for the sun, the shire,
the hum of spring

I’m a Sucker for the Soul –
It’s just as I was always told
‘you should move away
from the
cold’

You see, I had
this
splinter
a red ring at the base

If poetry has motion, I can feel it’s pulse
It ends where it begins
^ deep in the numinous heart of all

what is it, this
pale February fire-bird
?

wingtips cutting the blue,