OverTheRainbow

it is finally finally finally

warm - kind of,

sunshine / soft rain / sixty degrees with a brisk step to it

that makes me think nobody but Vermonters who miss the days

of tap step / crocuses / daffodils buried in snow

the permanent marker squeaks across the page black sharpie mimic the scream rage & awareness & hands off hands off hands OFF MY BODY you call this democracy?

it's snowing,

again,

and through the endless endless white and the soft ticking of the grandfather clock

on the wall i halfheartedly wonder what the cardinal

in the bird feeder thinks of this.

My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.

the robins outside my window don't care if it is sunny or snowing. we have passed the 20th and their wings are made of maple sugar & time.

Being a Vermonter is spending six months of the year wearing a jacket.

Being a Vermonter is running outside in nothing but leggings and a sweater, thinking it’s springtime when it hits 47 degrees.