on the evening after a march snowstorm
my wife texts me
that they are fighting on the subway platform
over delayed trains
from snow and frozen tracks
and in the hardware store
the man behind the counter
with his plastic pool sales
and garden hose dreams
is pushing spring like it’s a new drug
this evening the setting sun
paints portraits on the sides of buildings
that i take pictures of
for posterity and the vain glory of social media
but the sidewalk tells me
that winter keeps lingering on
this unholy mess of snow and ice
that the neighbors leave sitting there
like offerings to the gods
that i have to dodge like traffic
unless i want to break an ankle
it knows the march of time
better than any groundhog
it knows what lingers more than most
better than any plastic patriot
loitering through their lifetime
taking up and down their silly american flag
and planting fake flowers in their lawn
as if they could fool
any of us at all
with their optimism with their confounded hope
that the neighbors leave sitting there
like offerings to the gods
that i have to dodge like traffic
unless i want to break an ankle
it knows the march of time
better than any groundhog
it knows what lingers more than most
better than any plastic patriot
loitering through their lifetime
taking up and down their silly american flag
and planting fake flowers in their lawn
as if they could fool
any of us at all
with their optimism with their confounded hope
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