but how can I tell you poem by Michael estabrook

but how can I tell you?

Spring is a greening, warming,

brightening moment,

a coming alive, a surging

of life”s energies, spring is you.

But how can I tell you?

The sheen of your skin,

soft and sweet and pure,

the fragrance all about you

lingering in tiny swells and eddies

draws me out, pulls me to you,

you as you are snarling and snapping

in the dull dripping shadows

and the air heavy as mist.