a diner table overhead.
Two coffee cups empty and fill
and empty and appear here
and there around disappearing
chocolate chip pancakes
and a two-egg breakfast, until
the cups stand empty alone together.
Light the daffodils that strike me teary,
Spring. Get on with it. I resent your joy.
I won’t cupboard my winter clothes. Each spring
dress that dances down the sidewalk destroys
a mind with delight. Every song is wrong.
These fragrant blossoms and reappearing
birds aren’t evidence of the Earth’s rebirth
but worse: they are Earth’s forever birthing.
What can you hold when you’re always giving?
You Icarus me each first equinox.
Get on with it. I can’t prevent your joy,
your light. Your endless day is endless night.