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the feel-good muscle-flex

of seasonal chores & yardwork —

tree-trimming, leaf-raking

and stick-gathering,

with the occasional burst of green

poking up through the soil,

further proof that spring

is most certainly on its way

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the unexpected arrival

of a waylaid birthday card,

banged up & battered,

postmarked three weeks prior ~

lost, somehow,

in the post office shuffle

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zoology was not on my radar —

you knew that better than anyone, your

x-ray vision exposing my every weakness,

wild extrapolations I could not be held responsible for,

vindications souring like fermented wine,

usurping fanatical tongues

thick with unwarranted lies, fabrications

slickened with vicious outrage,

resourceful in their clever

quintessential civic demeanors, nibbling

pralines, pretzels and prawns — somber

overtures devoid of quiet

nocturnal memories, etchings of

Montgomery, Alabama in spring,

lemon tree lovers

kept in the dark, spirited

junctures of time, the endearing

individuality, the oozing charisma

hovering on a far-fetched periphery —

garnets of an abandoned childhood,

frank discussions over Spaghetti-O’s,

elegant petit fours and Black Cherry Kool-Aid —

dinner trays at Auntie June’s, sitting on her kitchen sofa,

cat hair adhering to black velvet,

back when the Internet was nobody’s pipe-dream,

AI not yet invented to keep you from living your very best life