"In March" by Kenneth Pobo
In March
A pewter sky forms an urn
to take us both in. I’ve heard
rumors of April,
of redbuds almost open,
columbines bluing a part
of the bed next to
a dead guara. This wind
could blow the rest
of March away, blow it
right into the garbage can.
Let the trashmen haul it
off for good.
Photo Credit: Staff