Pacific Airstream Reaches New England
86 degrees, December

Balmy high. The New Dawns start in June—
eight Decembers have I lived here, never
smelled pink bushes in the winter. Ever.
Sun-warmed, thawed and lazy, I won't prune.
Basking, I forget it's almost Christmas,
shed my heavy sweater. Grass needs mowing,
weighted with full blossoms, canes keep growing.
Short-tailed starlings swarm the narrow isthmus,
crowd my maples, cackle ordinary
happiness, black iridescence, hot noon.
Listen: soot wings wheeling snap warm air.
Roses bud to open. Don't be wary.
Weather beggars winter. Love now, not soon.
Yes, we'll stretch out on the beach. I dare.

Copyright © 2003 Dolores Hayden All rights reserved
from Line Dance
(Robert L. Barth)
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission