O you would hate this
wouldn’t you
you like my Pisces son
(your sign) angling
his face away face
stuck in a neck-shoulder fold
possibly wandering away
making a joke about boogers
a violet up his nose
Look at the spring
It is April I’m gassy
and ice shelves shatter
We are busy writing our scratchy scratch
with bus exhaust
What would you make
of me my life settled
after dramatic proclamation of “no settling”
Why this April beauty
when families die in Hawaii
Why this random dog barking
I still love I love you you
who will forever be
34 tall and a mother
Fear of not meeting grandchildren
Sand in the house
Sandbox sand in my house |