POEM A DAY – March 28

Snow in April March

I know there’s three more days of March but my mind is in April, and my stomach is in Tuscany, and my spine is in bed, and my legs are knee deep in Lake Huron in July. I know the earth is spinning and that Mother Nature is getting dizzy and probably has asthma and that even though we know how to make things that won’t hurt her, and even though we know how to share and even though we know that love is the most important thing in the world….I also know we forget. We forget that it will snow in April March. In four hours I will have a puppy on my lap, and I know he may pee on me or poop on me or sleep the entire drive home. I know that I won’t be sleeping through the night for several weeks and that his presence in our lives adds several thousand worries to my already bloated bag of things I worry about, but love is the most important thing in the world and the reason for puppies is love. And right now, our other dog, Pages, she’s resting on the edge of the mangled sofa, unaware of how her life will change in about five hours, her snout a resting place for the morning sun. I know that someone I love dearly will wake with a canyon-sized hole in her heart and that the baby I held yesterday will drool a pool’s worth because she’s teething. I know that reading Wordsworth makes my lungs relax and that my hair is so long it gets stuck in my armpit after I shower. It’s spring and there’s snow in a soft crinoline around the trunk of the maple tree and the house across the street has been for sale for over a year and the sign is gone now. I can feel the emptiness pushing against the windows from the inside. I know the porch stairs are bedazzled with ice so I have to go slow when I leave. I will hold the railing.