secret no one can keep
for Jean Kent
and now everyone knows
it’s the longer light
the mud to life
(a theory once)
how dare
and flirt
first thing from the veranda
an orchestra tuning
instruments of bright
nor anything regular intended
feathers carry word (which isn’t)
insects cone up, gyre like motes
can’t help the odd paint splash now
flowers all put on a show
a riddle in the turning
how we could come to here
woody thickets of delve
where nectar
parrots in mandarin
brazen sneak
glimpse them wing it too
a rite?
commence thirst
near the zenith
throw cloud by shade
we seek
and shield the eyes from glare
later in the day
burn off last winter piles
a season as ever
never before!
limber and spit
get your hands on it
try a little nakedness now
dance breeze
dusk dew welcome
it is a week premature perhaps
sprightly and soon sprawl
the secret is out
now it’s Spring!
kk
