Let Me Explain
       

Spring, and the tulips urged me
stick to schedule, flower furiously.
I asked for mountains but settled
for some flood-buckled linoleum.
Air was the only sure thing
and even she put up a fight.
I called my eyes near-sighted,
my hands near misses, my arms
close calls, my face old hat,
my head a bluff and raised
my body, a wishing machine.
Stars, thanked. Days, numbered.
I wore a coat because you can't trust
weather and I looked like rain.

Copyright © 2009 Dora Malech All rights reserved
from Shore Ordered Ocean
The Waywiser Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission