In the space 

between winter sunrises

and summer sunsets

lies a brief moment 

of Technicolor green.


It pours over my eyelids

satiating the thirst.

I blink

and squint

and blink again,

wondering if this is a dream 

or a wish

I’ll wake up from.


It heats up my corneas 

and burns my retinas.

I close my eyes

and still, I see it – 



blades and leaves 

shouting their birth,

their significance 

in the order of things.


I’m drunk

I’m dizzy.

I swim in the briefness

the gaiety

the reverie

of spring.