April Snow

The neighborhood is adorned with dog shit

dead leaves, ugly snow

what we want

what we get

It’s fifty-two

degrees I will walk my fear of death

up to the corner of Michigan & Clematis

& abandon it

like an unwanted pet

Like a hungry stray

it follows me home

It pains me

to stack the days

unread

books on a nightstand next to our bed

so we can refer to them

occasionally

while the sun parts

two clouds &

spits

—spring, 2006