"Without December"
This world in protest revised
itself against December--
and the ground spread accordingly.
Tender are the snake and jade
as they do the silent work of
extension--unfettered by chill
the golden trumpets trumpet
coming the soft rainfall
in the morning quiet.
Who said the unbending
fulcrum of day was without humor?
Its hinge come unstuck.
I am but man with four limbs
severed to three
and stand amidst tropical milkweed
in new beginning.
You ask me if I'm cold
in this tight wrap of daybreak
How could I? This warm
daylight will your queen's wreath
melt--and whole I bend to the sun.