Spring

A woman named Melissa

called

she said

squinting

with a thick leaden glare.
Her sulky lisp
carried a whiff

of damp black earth.

She turned away
and hunched
her shoulders
in a sullen heap
against him.
He thought
of small cadavers—

old crows or perhaps young rabbits—

soaked under a pile of leaves
and branches
spoiled by the thaw.

__________________

copyright © 2011 lcmt

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