The dock breathes with me
As we suck in our
First lungful of spring.
Sighing, elastic terra
Fading rigid lines
Becoming cool waves
Melting
Cherry blossoms sucker punch
Barren branches—
Blood red pops
Magnolia flakes spin groundward
Mockery
To the fading season
We exhale.
My toes dry in
A softly humming breeze
Spring song sticking
In the river’s throat
A thick overture of pollen and
Slow spun spider webs
We creak and heave into motion
From a dead standstill
Rising,
Waking from long hibernation
Fading rigid lines
Becoming cool waves
Melting
Into the flexing soil
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