GIVE ME JUST THIS ONCE

GIVE ME JUST THIS ONCE. . . THIS SPRING. . .

let me combat the sun. . . reject

myself the smells of furrowed earth

that cannot stop the ritual seed’s

mute pulse, that need not always take

us by surprise.  I’ll claim the yellow

soft delight, but have done mating

miracles.  A younger man

with only time must be seduced

by soft new rain;  not the promised

phantom memory packs of summer’s

eye.  Now, this lonely once,

to men no more, let me make

or murder, slowly cool, benign. . .

just this once, I must trample

through this last sweet spring.