One Springtime

One huge black lonely universe.
One single lonely yellow-green star whirling along at the edge of the Milky Way.
One planet of opal, jade, and sapphire glows with a thin blue edge, careening around this star.
The land mass of North America tilts ever more toward the warming sun.
One midwestern city blooms in onion grass, then tulip, then cherry and dogwood.
One church is struck by spring sunlight as the guys in the youth group bid on lunches made by the girls.
One guy makes an outrageous bid -- but gets the "lunch" he really wanted.
One girl walks with him through the warm air in the flowered park.
One sentence, they both start together, then fall silent.
One bird whistles in the trees. Then another. And another.
One bee buzzes by, busy in the blooming bushes.
His comment sings through the air. Then hers.
Their voices chirp and whir in the sunlight in a strange duet.
One carrot stick each, one tuna salad sandwich each, one soda each, one plastic container of potato salad to share.
One flash of those golden eyes.
One look at the long, flowing lashes.
One laugh.
One brushing touch of hands.
In one bubble-moment, attraction sizzles.
Affection grows.
In one wink, love bursts forth and builds and grows.
In the blink of springtime, acorn begins oak; touch begins love.
One flash of lightning topples that stately oak.

Even one springtime retold may be too much for one human heart to hold.

Wilbur's True Story
Excerpts from longer writings
Short Story Index
See Perfect Match in the archives of the June 1997 Issue of Burn Online
See A Short History of Sacrifice in the archives of the September 1997 Issue of Moonshade

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Last modified: Sun May 18, 1997