Book knowledge of Heat (May)

We harlequin-dream to be plastered with cherry
petals, lips holi-dusted in crocus pistils.
We plead of sky and each other: make us sweat,
bait us to unswaddle without the suffering of
late frost. April showers thaw the shoulders,
showing skin is months away, other side of spasms
of lumbar, shoots of brave green, shiver of May
flowers, snow coated. Warnings of global warming
seem not so much cruel tease as naive, or perhaps
tongue-in-cheek, like latin lover’s spar, designed
to pique, to be fire pokers to spark the ole
coal noggins into remembering father sun.