Girls have Milk Feet after Winter

Girls have Milk Feet after Winter

In summer times
there are girls who slick rhubarb and sugar;
milk soles swell on hot pavements of bees.

Winter girls. Forest girls. Moon-spill girls.
Shadow girls. Mist and sun widows:

Comb November,
come. Etch the shade of a saguaro across it,
as faults are signed on a side of a glass plum.
Come, see November O as it lifts
what it lost.

Come, in your frost skin and marigold dress.
Come, in your mercury legs long as moonspill on grass.
Come, in tongues that speak Capella Vega, stars in colder season as close as candles.
On your plum dresses November is written in frost, cold as love.