April Snow

 

Make a wish. The wind will pull
One end of the wishbone and you
Catch the gusts in your hair and
You tug till the tree is full
Of your yearning. Till each branch
Is awash with your desire and each
Leafless twig stretches to reach
Into you, learning to listen for
Your wanting. And then the tree
Is a tuning fork that sounds
The depths of dreams tangled
In nightmares, seducing hauntings.
Make a wish, make a wish, make
More than one, make three. There
Is music in April snow and if you’re
Willing to let your need for
Summer go, your lust for it
Will set you free.