soon everything will be apple-tree
new again. and i, munching on
the over-ripe world will slap spring
on the back like a gladenning friend.
i do so love the snow sleeping noisily
and tasting icicles. but i long to
hear my marigolds growing and smell
kites whooshing about my hungering
hands. i want to feel warmed sun
wrapping itself around my back, but
even more, i'd like to see oiled worms
crawl into a hugging rain as i jump
around, under, and over their water-
puddled homes. and most of all, i
want to watch april make people love.
(April 1,1965)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem