Monday, May 16, 2022

ALL AT ONCE

The truly secuctive thing 
about Spring 

is the way she doesn't choose 
to dazzle anything 
gradually. 

One day—abruptly, 
like a fist 
which is opening—

on the bright-kite breeze
surfs the balmy smell 
of lilacs 

already relieved 
to find themselves
decomposing—

not to mention
every speckled starling 

who immediately begins,
when he lands 
in the green, 

to contribute his insights
to the raw mind of nature.

It's as if, 
all at once, dolor 

begins holding 
its breath

as the distance 
that exists beween heaven 
and earth 

collapses
from the width—

to the depth 
of one leaf.