Spring: the loose woman

Early SpringI don’t remember the trees having this many shadows.
Long teeth cutting the concrete. I walk under the branches and through their mouths.
Spring has come to me early. I didn’t have to run or wade through the cold for long.
Above me blossoms smell like a woman’s insides. Fertile and falling
softly to the ground, unrepentant and pungent
swiftly swept by men tidying their lawns.

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