South Wind in March

Erupted like a train from its cave
dripping juices from
your ravished Gulf Stream bed,
relentless you came kissing
from climate to climate.
Spreading grasses and waters,
pressing tree after tree
you bent limbs arcing over stalks
and entered my sky sweating
clouds. Unpaused you licked
me breathless, sucked
at my sweet frozen dews.

Wrapped in your turgid moan,
rumbled and eddied and sprayed
I felt you rush through,
thumping freight train in the night,
howling for New England’s
luscious shores, still shining
with my melted snows. Lurched
in the wake, I strain to hear
your insatiable panting whisper
away while behind, all your
wanton children spring squealing
beside the virile tracks.

[Published Spring, 1979, in Voices International]