Long Day

for a walk to sunburned shoulders
at every compass point
the hard straight streets
same garage-box houses, pent-up
barking dogs, daffodils
trails to ponds and rivers of shopping

this afternoon privilege, having
diverted us from our childhood
revolution to a quest for happy
shoes: I am turned around

so that sitting, quiet, in the manicured yard
I am surprised to find the sun still at my back
moon still in my eyes, a single white butterfly
flitting like a dream and wanting still
to be in your arms

 

Prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 16 is an “Almanac Questionnaire.”

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