Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Fragments of Spring

Stapled to the telephone pole
where her classmate died
two wilted bouquets of roses
form a Y.


A woman waves with a cigarette in her hand,
her long hair gathered at the bottom
with a rubber band, loose pink pajama pants
flop in the breeze. Her son's hand grips
the green seat of the school bus.


Today I clean the baseboards,
tomorrow I paint the hall floor,
Friday I take over the world.

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