If spring rides in on a personalized Harley
and clouds separate to reveal sun blue sky,
if debt fades like winter, melting exhaustion,
reversing our fortune in tulips and time,
if the hours you toil bring sweet reward
and roofs of houses repair themselves,
if silvery salmon leap into your arms, and
Scotch flows smooth and sweet from faucets,
and some country girl sings you to sleep
as eager hands ease flesh and muscle,
if sons and daughters repeat our pleasure,
aching hearts of many colors, then
if I shed ten pounds of gray-haired confusion,
show up in your dreams, a long lost geisha,
if only then, would you just love me?
Then trees will burst into leafy green.