A gay light of spring by adrienne adams

Dappled light bright, filters
through the warmth of day cools it’s back
sucks itself clean, spits out sunshine, queers itself
Whole.
 
The Gay Light of Spring.
The way I like men who wear skirts, best;
and long hair trailing soft,
whispering muscles against lace;
kilts to be exact.
Doing yoga on craggy rocks.
Atmosphere offers itself up,
opens to tendrils curling
around the ornate buttons on his velvet down jacket.
A fancy dandelion to blow my wishes on;
 and her hair, whizzing by.
All in one instant;
everything cascades in a cacophony of birds singing, insisting, spring
Is here.
Though the wet snow blankets everywhere;
the ducks are, in fact, waddling across the white lawn looking for grubs.
 
The ice that cracked through to more ice ,
Will,
melt.
Everything in its’ own time,
 
Spring;
 
                                                     and sorrow too.