LindaAnn Loschiavo

Wind-skinned March, dragon-clawed, maintains its rein
With spiteful shifts of bitter blasts like slaps,
Pretending winter’s staying to raid joints,
Crack knees like kindling, or detour lovers
Indoors while it goes whistling past the Ides — —
Until the vernal equinox when Sun
Caresses the equator to arouse
Earth, singling out his former partner (cold
At first, hard-crusted), knowing he’s approached
Before and, when she warms, spring’s miracles
Are easy, marking marriage with day-night
Equals, short-changing lovers of covers
Of darkness, as a slow unfolding light
Stretches, helps April find all that was lost.