April 15

spring has drawn a curtain such
that i cannot see long or deep
into the woods
and even though in february
i long for her to unfurl
the leaves and vines
of renewal
i secretly hold dear the moments
on cold trails or searching (leering) through frosted glass
peering past the rows of rough bark
and gnarly branch hoping
to find
seeking to know
the secret of the hills
and boulders
caressing their broad shoulders
and thighs
loving them and knowing that
they will soon drop behind the green curtain
finding their flirtatious privacy
in the company of the growing chaos of the forest