Before this Desert Life - May 13, 2024

I would crawl out of winter

like a tulip

poking its head up

the icy grip of soil with

the warm pull of the sun

wanting to raise my arms

before a cloud apologized

chilly rain is coming

but no snow

I always wished for spring as badly

as a butterfly’s wings

in a cramped cocoon

or the bench in the empty park

without a warm butt

for far too long