Spring has arrived, and with it pleasant, airy days, cool, restful nights. So long in coming, so greatly appreciated. Here’s a love poem for this greening season:


The Book


Did I meet you in that little shop

where the book of love is kept behind the counter?

Impossible except our names are there

in golden script upon the luminary page.


Who would have thought the string bean boy,

the girl who squats and hops like garden toads

would find each other in the deep immensity

but there you are, my fingers trace your name.


I see mine linked with yours by radiant hearts

the shop’s proprietor, eternal smile,

before the book is closed takes up the pen

turns the page, and writes our names again.