it is may and it is morning

it is may
and it is morning

the night has been sighing
raindrops
and the shy earth is green as a new soldier
a first love, first draft
new teacher behind the desk of
her first class

nothing yet required.
nothing must be
changed.  the lilacs on
the table with lilies of the valley
a small wealth of fully wilted dandelions

need
no
arrangement to childishly
speak

a foggy breath drawn in through the open
window
from the patient, pausing earth
waits
for you to
exhale

because like each new thing drawn upwards
on its green string
your body
in the dawn air
involuntary
knows what
next follows last