i felt thirst for life come over me like a violence – supple, surrendering. drink through me from my fingertips to my roots. root me in a resonance round and repeating. i felt hunger for lust thundering through me like a rapture – spring had bounded through branches into buds. spring had curled into seeds and knocked twice. life had flung out like a drummer – noting, present, pearlescent. i felt dirtsmell and humus grumble sinking out of the snowmelt. i felt, i felt, i hurled my heart into a ball and let me blood burn white again – spring is here, the daffodil said. spring is here, the crocus called. spring is following you down the road – hungering, hungering, here comes the feast.