Pi Day
We wring hands begging spring and finally, winter’s
leaving Cleveland, a seasonal glacier carving the roads,
embellishing them with the grit of our driving in the
relinquished like hackies in taxies waltzing round potholes
as prevalent as scaled craters on the moon, o battered
road of rugged emotions–the consolation prize jobs for
people to spackle and pave, gigantic rags of the city
repairing its crust
Soon land’s raw thaw will be absorbed into spring’s
forgiving pillow powering fresh green leaf, flowering
chrysalis seed, budding trees for bees, sprinkling petals
into regal paths for cheerful hops of curious sparrows,
fresh air like ribbons of light, byzantine rites of stain
glass windows, spiral candy dance for everyone from
lusty flushed youth to clean peace aged
~ Lady