The Untamed Woman

Forsythia

She doesn’t offer leaves first

Straight to flowers

Skipping foreplay

Her sun-soaked skeleton isn’t for the birds

Or the bees 

She gives herself to the wind instead

Her carnivorous color shows up uninvited

Devouring winter

Shocking domesticated eyes

She mocks your forecasts

Trusts her intuition,

There will be three more snows after my bloom

They debate her worth

Fear her wildness 

Hack her into submission

Still

She returns

Shining