Withholding Gratification

Red Maple Tree Buds

Red Maple Tree Buds (Photo credit: photoholic1)

This early spring morning,
my eyes swell gritty and itchy
with the desiccated sweat of maples
withholding climax so fervently
their tiny fists clench tightly red
at the ends of their spindly wrists,
gripping the imaginary sheets of dew
upon which they in shifting breezes
writhe.

I imagine their sightless eyes
envision skeletons of scarred saplings
in forest pyres or the nightmare
turn upon that hellish spit
lathe of Louisville Sluggers, lest
they rupture in winged vernal rapture
before that one last echo whimper
of wanton winter tomorrow
comes.

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2 thoughts on “Withholding Gratification

  1. I liked what you were saying at the center of this piece. As an observation, or question really, do you think it might have been tighter without seeming to fit as much language as you did into such a simple , but profound image–I especially liked you ‘Slugger’ reference, whivch is the kind of imagery that works best for me as a reader–the kind that does its work in a simple but unique way. Thanks. >KB

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