Green waiting

Forgiveness is like
the pearl clot
of cloud and
mist that melts
in front of
the April sun.
It is not that
something is hidden
away or disguised.
It transforms itself
into the earthy
smell of humus,
where the jack-in-the-pulpits
grow. This green
waiting is a forgiveness
as well.
And a giving
of thanks. For
the shell of
winter and the wanton
warmth of desire foretold.