Morgan Michaels


The Spring Comes To 14th Street


and overnight, in one fell swoop
liquidated blocks of snow
and brought to the trees unruly rows
of straggly flowers, pink and cream;

Scraggly boutonierres with bloody throats
in mouths that shouted out
dumbly from tufts of yellow greenery
capoing the scenery to a
key-change bringing on a sea-change;

Then, reaching in its pocket, Spring
drew forth a wind, unwadded it, wound
it, let it go and bid it blow
the branches stiffly through, then overdue
somewhere, bowing low, withdrew.

They blew and blew and barely clung
to the meager branch from which they hung
fluttering together, red and green
like all the perils of Pauline
and then some.

Not perfect, nyet,
nor picture-postcard pretty, yet
nonetheless affecting-
reminding you that in this town
sometimes you take what you get.

Submitted: Friday, April 11, 2014
Edited: Saturday, April 12, 2014

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