Based on a sculpture called Spring
No, not naked – see, here’s my cap of leaves
that’s dress enough for these bare woods – I bare
my skin to woodland after turn of year
under that dismal light which night believes
will soon replace our old ideas of day.
I use my beauty to push against the dark
until light triumphs. My parents go berserk,
can’t understand how much I love the way
that Spring puts tiny eyes in every twig.
I help it remember how not to forget
by making green leaves from scraps of dresses
– no other clothes are needed. My toes dug
into leafmould I train Spring like a pet –
secretly, and no one ever guesses.
more of Johns work can be found at