Don’t want muddy tracks
on a floor still dirty from melted snow
to be how I know it’s spring.
Freshly blooming flowers don’t worry
about six feet or face masks,
but they need rain
and I’ve had enough grey sky days,
even when safe behind a window,
watching the neighbours’
dog on a leash,
almost afraid to blink
as they throw a stick
too far.
I’d rather reminiscence about winter nights:
next day’s Christmas shopping
unquestioned (lists almost the same
as last year),
air gone so stale from space heaters
that our plastic plants
seemed to be suffocating.
***
Richard LeDue was born in Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada, but currently lives in Norway House, Manitoba with his wife and son. His poems have appeared in various publications throughout 2019, and more work is forthcoming throughout 2020, including a chapbook from Kelsey Books.
Rejection Letters 