Rose-Colored Sunglasses
by Lori Lamothe

1.   You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
2.               Pablo Neruda

1. As it turns out, changing the world
2. is cheap. Five bucks for a reality
3. soft as strawberry ice cream,

1. where all wings shine like the feathers
2. of flamingoes and every flower
3. breathes dawn’s watercolor dance.

1. Don’t speak to me about death.
2. In their coffins, the children’s
3. cheeks are ruddy with health

1. and the babies sleep in cradles
2. stained a variation on spun sugar.
3. At night, darkness intercedes

1. but that’s okay. There’s freedom
2. in an unlit room, in the mind
3. at rest with its shade pulled down.

1. In the morning if the alarm
2. wakes me too soon,
3. weave songbirds through my hair

1. and fill your arms with cherry blossoms.
2. Let your lips brand sonnets
3. across my body and keep springtime

1. by the bed. Expect the broken
2. to appear in dreams
3. without warning. Be vigilant.