Buds

eyelash shadow
upon the speckled cheek
feathered there from the lazy layers
of cool daunting
spring sun

with your hair mussed up
curled along a winter's pale
shoulder

and the nude lips get pressed together
as you study the crocuses
poking pretty from the
brown ground that
scuffs up your new summer shoes

you
pushing the sides of your dress down
as the March breeze roars in
on a Sunday morning

smacking your gum
and giggling unconsciously
thinking about whats outside
your classroom's windows
swinging your feet
under your desk

the porch lights swing
from a Christmas season retired
jumping off the steps
and running down the driveway
trying to catch
the setting sun

and during the late afternoon
when the marmalade sky
sweeps down upon the bread of the land
your eyelashes will catch
the last sighing rays