“IN ‘CYCLES’ FRANK SINATRA SINGS ‘AFTER WINTER COMES THE SPRING’”

Spring bulbs need that cold 

winter claw to awaken them.  

And yes, the first snowfall, 

perfectly white, 

no car exhaust or road slop.  

But mostly I want winter

to bug off.  I don’t send it

a Christmas card and I think

it would be lovely to stab

winter with a large icicle.  

It does go, sometimes

way too slowly--snowdrops 

start the bloom parade 

as winter drowns 

in melted snowflakes.  

I have no sadness.  It will return, 

but for now, I revel in flowers, 

flowers aplenty, bud-stuffed stalks, 

birds singing to them.

“EXPECTING REBIRTH IN AISLE SIX”

My husband says he needs sourdough pretzels.

The bulky bag looks like it needs a nap.

March.  The store no longer sells honeybells.

I keep this news from my lips and tongue.

I speed past all of the vegetables.

Is corn a vegetable?  I slow down.

My dead friend said: Stop eating like a five

year old.  I can’t.  I’m waiting to turn six.

Maybe Cass Elliot will break into

the muzak.  “Did You Ever Want To Cry?”

Oh the desserts, oh the guilt, oh the yes,

I must have peach pie.  And chocolate cake.

Ken, this is the check-out lane.  Think of it

as Death.  Someone’s in front of you.  You’re next.    

Kenneth Pobo (he/him) is the author of twenty-one chapbooks and nine full-length collections. His recent books include Bend of Quiet (Blue Light Press), Loplop in a Red City (Circling Rivers), Lilac and Sawdust (Meadowlark Press) and The Book of Micah (Moonstone Arts). Pobo’s work has appeared in North Dakota Quarterly, Asheville Literary Review, Nimrod, Washington Square Review, Mudfish, Hawaii Review, and elsewhere.