The Grapevine Art and Soul Salon

A midwinter thaw
Swells wintersweet blossoms into stars and honey,
Seduces crocus:
Hurls two unexpected aches,
Surprising and deadly as a Nagasaki bomb.
A parking deck snugs against a building,
Its rain-damp concrete stairwell
Holds a luminous sign, AREA OF REFUGE.
I glance at the sign among the pipes,
Listen to my feet clang hollow on metal,
Thinking of tooth and heart,
Of love and Armageddon.
A dentist’s skilled hands
Soothe physical pain.
In an hour I return to winter sunlight,
Return to crocus and wintersweet,
Remain with the wind’s suspended time,
The first ache quenched,
The second still smoldering.
This ache, this gift of love--
Wintersweet-fragile,
Crocus-uncertain,
Bomb-terrifying,
Cannot, will not be healed.
Where is my area of refuge?.