Spring

To nurse them from seedlings

On land I belong to
To feel the contours of the terrain
Known and unknown always
A lover I have kissed in years past
A tree branch is a lock of hair I brush past
To come to a place between the pine
A mossy mound, a place to rest
To be blessed by the fragrance and the moist air
Merge until there is nothing left of you,
Or I
The moment when the sky rides across us
and the dark earth turns below.