Tease

Sunlight
thick bubbly clouds
deceivers
luring the ill
into your embrace
then sending a chill
invisible, but so tangible
driving us out of your
beautiful
face
How dare you
yank the infant green buds
from the trees
then claw at them
with icy nail
scratch at the skin
of the naked tulips
Keep your powders
your grains
just let us see the
dull brown mud and
leftover grass
we'll forgive you

--Barbara E. Prater, 4/00