Feels like spring

should I greet you as if we had merely eaten together one night when the white birches dripped wet and lightning etched black trees on your walls? it is not love I am asking love comes from years of breathing skin to skin tangled in each other's dreams until each night weaves another thread in the same web of blood and sleep and I have only passed through you quickly like light and you have only surrounded me suddenly like flame the lake is cold the snows are sudden the wild cherry bends and winter's a burden in your hand I feel spring burn in the bud. Copyright, Mary Mackey 1987 From "The Dear Dance of Eros"