In the pale brightness of spring
It feels like the whole world is blushing
Feverish from grass so green it makes people queasy
After the blinding purity of winter white
Time slides like coins through fingers
Slipping into wishing wells
As we bathe in sliced seconds
And you rinse salt and sand from your hair with pollinated minutes
Under showers of sunlight
Curl up in these moments
Amorphous in their consistency
Winter ice thawed to dew drops
Luke warm and lush under the full moon