Coming from within a rising hedge

Coming from within a rising hedge

Of voluptuous white oleander –

I sensed a turmoil; one writhe

Seduced better than before

And within the naked boughs

Of some palo verde – in a rustle

Of few leaves – I thought I saw

Among them a potential

So quick and sullen, I almost not

Deemed it worthy a mention

Until a lone grackle squawked

That vernal suspicion

Then the wind flirted with a sage

Whose mane shimmied – fervid –

As if the breath of Earth had encouraged

Spring to dance for him.