by Lori Lamothe
- You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
- Pablo Neruda
- As it turns out, changing the world
- is cheap. Five bucks for a reality
- soft as strawberry ice cream,
- where all wings shine like the feathers
- of flamingoes and every flower
- breathes dawn’s watercolor dance.
- Don’t speak to me about death.
- In their coffins, the children’s
- cheeks are ruddy with health
- and the babies sleep in cradles
- stained a variation on spun sugar.
- At night, darkness intercedes
- but that’s okay. There’s freedom
- in an unlit room, in the mind
- at rest with its shade pulled down.
- In the morning if the alarm
- wakes me too soon,
- weave songbirds through my hair
- and fill your arms with cherry blossoms.
- Let your lips brand sonnets
- across my body and keep springtime
- by the bed. Expect the broken
- to appear in dreams
- without warning. Be vigilant.
Packingtown Review – Vol.14, Fall 2020
Lori Lamothe is the author of three poetry books, Trace Elements, Kirlian Effect and Happily. Her work has appeared in DIAGRAM, Jet Fuel Review, SHAMPOO, The Journal, Passages North, Verse Daily and elsewhere. She is a baker in New England.