Belated Spring

Belated spring, 

Central Park still chill by frost.

A familiar shiver 

Wrinkles The Lake mirror surface 

With gentle lamentation. 

Mooring under the bridge, 

Home coming for the spring,

Hence Rusulka sings. 

Falling for a mortal--

Selfless moon, shared by all,

With thy light,

Metamorphoses my nausea

Into butterflies, and send them

Fluttering against my beloved's window

Wherever he might be.

Poem: April 15, 2017

Photo:  Central Park boatrow. April 15, 2017. Samsung Galaxy Note 5.
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