You Had to Have Seen This Coming

thin cuts

of spring in
my fingertips
spring as my oldest
and longest lover
spring at my door
spring yellowing
the air with pollen
spring, i owe you
an apology for weeping
in the black ice
nights of december for
dancing bare breast
on tables with older
men hooting and steaming below
all in the rising heats of
summer i am sorry for fall
and its militia of crisp

leaves creeping up on me
like a final goodbye
pushing me down flat
on my stomach their jabberwocky
eyes thick with amusement
and hunger folding
thick like an
afghan in their
mouths but spring, my
baby boy you'll come
quick to put me on
your saddle and we'll ride
off, fading from existence, blurring
at the edges.

--Tuesday Something