I promised myself

I'd get a tattoo

if I survive this winter -

a little outline of a dress

on my right shoulder.

She said, you should

probably be in-patient

and I smiled

the little grim outline

of anger and repugnance.

Winter is like that

one day you're fine

just shopping for lettuce

and toiletries, and

the next day you're in bed

contemplating the best way

to fade quietly into January.

I'm looking forward to spring,

the tattoo artist will ask me

they always do -

the inspiration for my tattoo.

I'll say I survived

that the winter didn't kill me

that I'm just fine, thank you,

the calamity of slowing suffocating

behind me like a bad dream

the kind that leaves you gasping.

I can only hope the tattoo artist

won't be horrified, but

he's probably seen worse

and that makes me even happier

to be out of the woods.

Its not a spiderweb- well, maybe it is, but more likely

its the lifeline of a small green worm-

and delicate one, your new pet

for the next ten days

Its not poisonous- well, not if you don't eat it

its just fuzzy, with bright red eyes,

and an inescapable thirst

for pool water

Its the rain- well, the rain isn't brown and dry

its dropping fuzzy ringlets on your car

and everywhere else

for the aesthetic

Spring is coming, be not afraid

for the sweat in the air is a drink in the shade

the tears in the sky are a sheild to the sun's blade

this is Florida- be not afraid

Planting Spanish onion seeds

On the floor in my garage

In black plastic trays

While you read aloud the story of an Alaskan teacher

Deliberately

Imagining our babies in a year or two

Their hair will be yellow curls

Their eyes will be either oceans or ponds

Imagine the potluck dinners

The baseball games at 6 p.m.

Mom and Dad will be in love

And will never hurt anyone again

Not under heaven’s golden sun

Not this spring

Under the melting snow,

Crocus is starting to grow.

It's head will soon show,

as it's body rises from below.

The Ides of March is nearly here.

The snow should soon disappear,

setting the stage for the first

floral show of the year.

Crocus will be in good company,

sharing the stage with Dwarf Iris,

Glory of the Snow, Grape Hyacinth,

Lily of the Valley and Daffodil,

a symphony of colour and good will.

The script was written long ago.

The actors know their roles by heart.

The only uncertainty is March,

The craziest month of the year!

Why do I hold March so dear?

Two crazies, a long time ago,

tied the knot under the biggest

Snow storm of the year!

Every March we celebrate

our wedding anniversary,

as soon as the snow clears,

with the first floral show of the year!

It coils

like a chill

roly-poly or

unabashed centipede

getting going...

And I, i like

fixing things,

for the human race

our close breath

rattled di,

the cross hairs,

and safety shells

the long run

of all historic

to-do's

undone

it's quite a list

in wind writ,

and as a fixer upper

myself...

I'm working on it

03.28.2024

Spring is coming... challenge @Plexiglassfruit

Oh, Spring!

I serenade to the coming of your arrival –

a little personal ode

to the revival that you bring!

I revel in the beauty of your awakening of Nature’s blissful sleep;

though,

it is my own rebirth,

from Winter’s angry clutch,

that invigorates the laziness of my bones and

washes away that tired depression.

My eyes are open again and I am ready to continue on.

You’ve knocked upon my front door quite early this year,

but how divine is it

to be blessed with such a welcoming surprise!

In appreciation of the youthful joy you grace upon me,

I, too, vow to bless this Earth with a loving kindness

just a little more than I had the year before.

What an honor to witness a Spring’s intimate landing!

when the teachers aren't looking

youthful rebellion is sweet

teachers say that flowers

are not food for us, only for bees

but their tyrannical lies

and the rocks in the stream

will not deter anyone from picking

honeysuckles, they taste too sweet

It's early February

Yet Persephone returned to earth Long ago in Cilicia

With every bloom, a tale untold,

In valleys green and fields of gold.

Oh, let us sing!

For here, where land and sea unite,

We find our strength, our pure delight.

Let joy bloom like flowers in early spring

For here, in this land of boundless happiness,

The sun shining upon us will remind

We're young, we're free, forever to be.