4.17.18

melting, melting, winter

melting except

that it’s a month too late

and the birds who snuck

north now cluster around

feeders like mother’s teats

lest the chill take them

down.

sun like august, ground for

february, dateline april

all unwound.

when we walked out to

get the car it slid out

from under us, feet

moving in all directions

from where we trod;

I watched a bird peck

at whatever it could find

on the porch, anything that

even made believe that it wasn’t

snow.

I think I’ll just wait

and see if sanity returns

before I do.

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