Spring in February, 2011

Magenta of redbud
a tiny stick of which
picked to post

In Texas, Spring comes in February
the confluence of a captive bolt pistol
that stuns and retracts
that fights the light
and a goofy lanky tongue wagging lab
escaped from the pen
or mental institution
with a yen for freedom

Eyes blind to distance
What the hell is Spring thinking here?
Teasing us with a subtle sweet blow
glancing and off-balancing

Spring is a cataract the sun surges slicing
skin slides south as blisters saute
supine in skinny soft shorts
space separating shirtless swims