Poem #4, Response

(I forget why I said this was a response...but)

On through an eighty degree night, fact

of warming in the midst of cold April

breeze is blankets, though the sinus headache

and twinging uscles annunciate in my skin

felt hats felt in winter are for tomorrow

newspaper rolls across the street; heat

but the dark of it inside the new

flowers make spring finally here, as if it were

fall but with white instead of fire