To "June," After a Separation

(In memory of Prana, for T.G.)

 

Soft rain slowly peels

Winter's white membrane

Off the sleeping earth.

 

My dog charges outside 

To run the green

And smell the secret

Months of snow

Have kept from her nose.

 

It does no good for me 

To tell her

This is not the same earth,

She is not the same dog,

One can't go home again, 

And dark snowclouds will return:

She's rolling on her back,

Laughing at the rain!

 

So, seeing you again,

I take off my shoes

And run my heart through

The almost-Spring

Of happy illusion.

 

                                                                                                              (Bellingham, Wa.: Winter 1969)

 

                                                                                          From The Bellingham Poems: Goliards Press, 1973