Kabuki Spring Trance

I move through drifting fog,
smoke rising from black vernal pools.
Around me, cranky traffic awakes.

A dark hawk spirals
above tight piers of tiny boats,
circles artichoke fields.

Beyond watercolor dunes,
cool lupine, renegade poppies,
fiery mustard cascade.

Restless, I hear love’s voice
hanging, reverberating in the air,
disturbing tones from spring’s pied piper flute.