You old seducer, with your chlorophyll, Are your promise; their hidden prickle will Remind me each joy comes with wounds somehow. And taken by surprise I am undone, As I find myself to be every year, I welcome Shakespearean phrases in, Its very theatre demands it here. So I feel you move in the woods and lanes, As the pleasures of your season prove Through chilly sunlight and the healing rains, I am not too old to be caught by love.And later in each greening hedge and field I see your Casanova charms and yield.

From ‘A Bench for Billie Hoilday’ Valley Press,

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