ThoughtSong Intersections

What Bloom
challenges
my heart
in the spring of sweet love
fresh love —
not new
love
but old
 
love
 
older than cherry boughs
     parched in splint’ring droughts
older than Frost’s beatings
older than fall’s leavings
 
seasons old
my blossoms BOLD
head;  then shout
     abiding love-touts
 
how dare a bloom
though soaring
loom
proclaim a flush
     of unfleshed brush
This Blush
Divine
     stained over time
 
no compare
 
i bloom
i dare
     where
love changed the air,   to bring to bear
my Fleur;   my
spring
freshed
          love affair