already. It’s supposed to be spring.
Whose idea was this, to empty
the shredder? Who spilled the milk
all over the daffodils? Listen,
I’m tired of wearing sweaters
and scarves. Tired of flannel
pajamas. I want to wear sandals,
paint my toenails hot pink. I
want some color, no more
monotones. No shrouded lawns,
roads, dirty Slushies of gravel
and sleet. I want to be ravished
by bird song. Renewed
like a library book. To step out
into a fresh start, a bright morning,
wearing only a smile, and dandelions
in my hair.
Barbara Crooker’s poems have appeared in many journals and anthologies, including The Bedford Introduction to Literature and Good Poems, American Places. She has six full-length books of poetry, including Small Rain (Purple Flag Press, 2014) and Barbara Crooker: Selected Poems (FutureCycle Press, 2015).