Atmosphere

What if the atmosphere is full of fossilized, vestigial remnants of love?
— Foxes in Love

I have two hands so I can scruff both sides of your beard at the same time.

I have two hands so I can stop on the sidewalk,
turn to face you, take

your two hands in mine and spin
within the ghosts

of all the love
that has walked through these streets.

I have two hands so
in the dissolving atmosphere

I can close my fist and squeeze

and squeeze and roll a marble
across the crease

where your left heart line meets the right.

Spring as witnessed by the cardinals and lilacs

I was alive yesterday; where were you? Preparing to take our last walk, to become the season the cardinals settle in to.

The lilacs want to tell you something. I tuck a sprig behind your ear so you won’t miss a word.