“Spring” by Kendall Defoe

Now, I don’t know
if she saw me
when she decided to

bend over to
pick up her bag and go

past the last tree

on the right.
My eyes did not seem

for the light
of a fresh sunbeam
that caught her full

and quite heavenly
body (smooth –
bedded or tanned

like warm sand).

It was for me
to watch and move,

maybe even to remember
what comes with these warm days,
all endless

as that beam; that light
had to caress her;
another shade among the rays.

Writer/Reader/Poet/Dreamer... Kendall is a college instructor, experimenter with the written word, and someone who thinks that books are worth saving. (Also: librarians and snail mail—damn you, Canada Post and certain school boards!) I just hope that someone gets a laugh and enjoys my work...