Two Poems

I
Eyes fierce and flashing,
she laughs, and her
smile is like the sunlight
reflected from winter ice...
her laughter is the sound of spring,
of trees and birds and growing things.
She turns,
arms out askew,
and it is the dance of a sultry summer solstice,
sweaty and humid and seething.
And her hair whirls about her
like the leaves of autumn
aswirl in the maelstorm
of fading light then falling to her shoulders.

II
Forget what might have been,
what comes and what may...
Right now is what there is,
all there ever is,
and all that will be
springs from today.
This moment, this choice,
is the moment,
the choice and
everything past has passed
in preparation, precipitating
the possible
and potential-
passing with procrastination,
with hesitation,
or trepidation.
With each reluctant respiration
a moment fades
into possibility unfulfilled.