Poetry of Issue #7        Page 54

spring tulips float

a wintry sunday in vermont floats
a bowl of daylight that never touches
ground, an endless rope of time rocks
in the lounger, so we read books till’ finally

the sun, strong as a bull, evaporates into fizz

and we barely touch on our way in or out the shower

splotched and crepey though we dream-
but really can oldsters change into spring
tulips, shoved close enough to shuffle
even dance, around

the newly built box structure
set in the field, next to the dump?
and, against slats of winter sky lift
its peaked roof, like a cap into space?

it’s an american icon rising up
against the gaude of self interest,
vinyl siding waving its belly in the wind,
like every humble house,
                                          america,
        you’ re beautiful

vermont, march, 2016

  ellen 'windy' (aug) lytle