Spring 2020 by the Cuyahoga River

This early Spring begins

to grow at last

her limbs and lips

and eyes and ears,

and the bushes budge

to try their brittle,

sliding brushes

on the cooling breeze.

And the willows

among the first

plying lighter green

with their budding leaves

probe and prod

this love’s old-new

genesis and season

for awakened senses,

looking for direction

and its seeded meaning

born to guide your spirit

and teach your flesh

of the speaking soul

once, once more

in this early Spring

filled with eyes and ears

and arms and steps—

for love’s fresh learning

when even willows

in a renewed stir

would appear

to be making love

with their leaves

to the wind,

the April air—

to free her grace

like a mellow tune

from a satyr’s reed.