Love Poem in March

Note written with atmospheric mist:
Every light at the altar of Art makes
windows blush and firmament great
There can only be cobalt blue skies
and the touch of warm gray on my face
as the daylight passes with passionate
steps up the ladder to heaven again.

I love as much as anyone can love a person
who he has just touched you inside my mind
and I am ready with you as the leap of the dark
and the pause of the kiss so often felt when
you draw the portrait of pleasure as grand epics
paintings for the Louvre or that other great museum
called MOMA in New York where I walk so often as
my hands find the color and shapes of space
to make my body fly again out of control.

Love has no tragic banging songs.
It is that calm before speech when
you know the truth has not been lost.
You can reclaim love my darling treasure
open the magic harp and sing the tenor
dream when Puccini maps the firmament
with that romantic babble and it's good.

Love in March has the splendor of wind
blushed across the lips as kisses will
fill the empty cold of that winter past.