Spring Figures

Turtle bean shoots and cauliflower tops —
trickling down to root in the ice
in a mime of...  
 
Pings.
Up the folded cards,
rolling arms back through,
under clockwork, flying palms winding the escape wheel mechanism,
in a flush of flowering galleries twirled in embroidery lace —
heels sewing spirals
as at once a school of stingrays glide down the centerfold on prodded tails.
 
The trains split their boxcar arms
and fell through chainé turns into whitewater oars swam through air
while the legs flung through the cloudy skirts.
 
And at the chime, a puppeteer archs the hands in a wave that drunk into the blades of a watermill
until vortexed into kaleidoscope.
 
The bamboo bows and relapses each with its own partner in the merry-go-round under the bells,
wheeled off as hands motion out a butterfly.
 
Lace back the soul trains and, channeling single-toed daisies before the phase back into the clock hands with a crank,
all returns to a rock broken out against the floor
 
into stone chests up to the sky.
 
Fraternité.