Eva

Only here would snow and low, pale
blossoms mix so easily, blowing foam
which tears at the window, then snuffs
itself out. Such things pass quickly,
season to spring. But everywhere:
reminders. Salt splits the road. The river
heaves with run-off. Inside I've forced
blooms, but they refuse, stalks dull
and staring. It's spring, then it isn't.
You love me, then you're leaving.
What to do with this half-life? It's tricked
the trees again, got them on a good day.
Warmed, the dogwoods puff like rice.
Snow starts, then it stops. By morning
there's no evidence at all above ground.
Didn't we have winter? Wasn't it hard,
and didn't I want you? Her lover's name
for Eva: little girl of no consequence.
How could I think I was the only one?

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ali Baba 01 July 2014

nice poem

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