Spring Fever

I feel her like dew
on my skin returning

her hair slightly wet
even here in our drought

my toes are planted i’m
sprouting in her garden

pounding my heart blooms
again taken up in her dancing skirts

open mouthed kisses stand me equalized in her harmony
caught completely up in her young passion no longer just memory

i cannot hide my wish to make love
drunk with kindness to make babies from nothing but love



Writing here in an attempt to soothe my soul.

for Anne Kemp Hummel​

i see the text from
last week saying we
won’t make it up until
this week and again
the anguish washes
over me the other voice
calls me like the sunset
holding out last light
going down fast and
i know life is eternal
but nothing cures the
shock of a dearly
loved one gone
quickly in the night
one last poem here
she will not read or need
how i loved that beauty
woman of song and faith and wisdom
my selfish heart laments her loss
my prayer requires adjustment