EASTER SUNDAY, 2017

—
APRIL 16, 2017

Rampant and woozy 
these neighbors 
mentally half-board’d up this Easter Sunday 
where pagan gods and goddesses roam around 
where families unite in a sea 
                                   of pinks
           sky blues                        yellows 
while my body like a pale marble statue stands away, 
crawling like a serpent lordly beyond the tail-end of 
my 'hood, pushing for prophetic intervention, collecting 
every loud whispery conviction in the aftermath. 
                           Cat’s missing
I keep reminding myself
while the passing of time enlarges 
the sinking feeling of possible loss. 
                           I watch from the window 
as a caterpillar wiggles on the collapsed backyard deck—
birds letting their language spill out into my tongue. 
                           Black-headed bumblebees 
digging-out perfect circles into the porch’s wood; 
sawdust falling gracefully to the steps like snow. 
                           Spring! Look what you have done!: 
Fauna, regalia of ripening, 
baseball aromas, endless green 
and multicolor for miles; 
all green and color stockpiled, 
free-standing, heroic, 
embodied in the clock; 
the feeling as if I do not belong to the present—
imperfect I—merely emerging as everyone else 
when “nothing gives” 
so I kicked the sweetgum fruit a mile 
after nearly slipping on it
moments before Miss B. brought over to me a 
Mason Jar 
full of homemade strawberry jam
as I hid behind the yellowbells, the rose bushes
in the pollen-aired dayspinning f/1.8 bokeh-spin
of melting light I retained.