Saint-Paul de Vence

YESTERDAY I GOT LOST IN A BREEZE.
BEING AN ARIES, I WAS READY TO POUNCE
ON THE FIRST WARM CLUE THAT SPRING
MAY BE IN THE AIR.
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I know that it's still the middle of February, but
Mother Nature has been slipping in brazen
enticements to those of us who are susceptable to seduction.
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There I was, sniffing the air like a demented groundhog
shedding his shadow. I became unhinged convincing
myself that springtime is around the corner.
Well, prove to me that it's not!
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And then I started looking for peaches, my well known addiction.
And then I started dreaming of the Peaches of St. Paul.
I got lost in that yearning, but found some relief by
reading for myself the last stanza of the poem I posted
several weeks ago, the very Peaches of Saint-Paul.
I know it was a tease not to include it, but then I never
really posted the beginning either. Another time.
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Whatever brings me closer to Spring, to Summer....
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xxxxxxxxxxxlast stanza:
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxOne glowed with a fever
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxin my cupped hands.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxI brushed its pre-pubescent fuzz
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxagainst your cheek, and it became
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxa secret kiss
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxthat no one saw.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxBut I saved the first bite for me.
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxfrom "Two Ghosts" poems/ Lyn Rochelle