of winter set in. And I wish the sun
was a soccer ball so I could
kick it higher in the sky, so high
I’d part the clouds with a comb, and

string them all together in a ponytail
so, they wouldn’t block the face
of earth. And as for the barren trees
who leaves have fallen like my breast that

look like burlap sacks I’d paint them all
in bouncing polka-dots so they’d resemble
rainbow sprinkles on top a birthday. Then I
would not have to eagerly wait for the coming

of another spring. Because color would
abound. And if the ground turned to
frost. I’d dye the dew a purple hue
that it would think it lavender. And then

it wouldn’t matter what the season be or what
the calendar said. Because believe you me
we’d paint the pretty picture in our head.