Misericordia

Summer, betray this tree again!

Bind her in winding sheets of green;

With empty promises unlock her lips;

Sift futile pollen through her finger-tips.

Curve those tense hands, so tightened in disdain,

To eager chalices for falling rain.

Break and elaborate that frozen line

With golden tendril and swift sinuous vine.

Summer, in mercy blur this bare delight

Of chiselled boughs against the winter night!