Already forgotten

Welcome to March

to all of its muddy heaving

no one knows what will happen next

because we are rolling

we are full of violent and

intemperate fantasies

We are alive in the dead month

when we could have danced on

top of silos filled with

summer's harvest

felt ourselves tumble amongst

champagne skies

with you I might have smelled the

promise of damp

earth

Instead we shovel slush together

break our elbows as

we slip on what we

thought were only

shallow puddles

But we are still brimming full

so let's scythe the progression of

our destruction together

right here

right here in the fields that dare awaken

once again

Now is so unlovely and so surprising

so full of resolutions never predicted

I know nothing more

than this

We are what is dead