Spring shows up with a costume of turtles.
Its ears full of newts. Its audience
of scientists.
At first we just eat it. The day a boat
we are dreaming and that boat
doing business.
Spring appoints hammerings:
the afternoon unsettling sun dresses
and on the street corner
for a moment one hat plying the air.
The first kites were also
the first movies—
cutouts against a collaborative sky
held by a line that pictures
a horse beginning
to lope or a dragon
rushing the sunrise, the morning
not wounded. Hand held.
Some people talk about life like a sandwich
or a bandage, someone’s mule
eating an apple.