Delicate impressions emerge from drunken March winds,

Holding me captive long enough to slay my winter slumber.

Round slabs of detail sprout in my rare garden of delight,

And produce slender vines of brilliance to gaze through.

Grains of opaque sand overlap each other without effort,

To create a mystical trail that leads into a harvest of bliss.

The flawless landscape curls up next to me like a lover,

A lover hungry for a blushing melody of careless fever.

The fullness of my reverie converts craving into energy,

As the winds of March curve around my intense body.