Spring has many oracles, but topiary
Uproots by increments all rigid prediction
Through tightened eloquence and loosened diction
That still proclaims the rhombus of a dromedary.
Spectacles bloom behind the eyes and glass;
Take glasses’ frames and wooden frames away and
What is left? A bare display of claypan;
But heated rumors rustle and amass
From sheaves and shocks,
While knife-edged blinds are raised in
Plots and plantings gravid and englazened.
Do cold frames crush the passionate into prosaic?
Freedom and captivity might be analogous…
But leave that flaw to vines’ arboreal valgus;
Here walls embrace, and floors leaf out mosaic.