My love, we haven't danced or linked arms
Like those leafless apple trees in the orchard.
Not for a while have we rolled in the weir…
Ankle to ankle, souls, bobbing naked inward-
Drowning - 'indeed no air-bubbles left' - we're
In no rush, inertia holds no more - alarms.
For us… around the corner spring is waking.
As for the moment; its icy, dark waters
Rolling over us like boulders yearning in circles
Only tantalize the fires, in our closed quarters.
In truth, we've tasted all their musk tendrils
Their flowering ivy boughs, lovingly, bursting.