Saturday Poetry: Eight Post Meridiem

It's spring

yet Winter’s resentful of its diminution and

comes back to haunt us today.

We who have them, unearth the

scarves and mittens and caps that

flew into the laundry basket

for washing and putting away.

Finished with homework she consents

to walk to the co-op for food.

I was girded to resort to censure:

I'm not the only one who eats in this house, y'know...

I've work all week and I’m tired.

She soothes me, the gift of her company.

We walk together, minutes into

the bracing cold

gossiping to keep ourselves warm.

She tells me that she is through with her posse.

She is not hanging out

with them any more.

She tells me where they were supposed to meet, how she waited.

Then looked for them at the Burger King.

They weren't there

and she went to the take-out Chinese

where they weren't, either.

In the street was the principal

who gets mad if she sees you eat

outside.

It’s after lunch that she finds them

and she lays down the law:

I'm not waiting for anybody.

Thinking of all

the boys who have broken my heart

all the phone calls that

still don't come

I tell her, it's a good way to live.

Fortified she interrupts:

I'll hang with anybody

I don't have to stay with one group.

She boasts how easily she can make herself welcome.

We are halfway there,

Winter’s been forgotten.

I am proud of my level-headed girl

Grateful for this inadvertent canal

between chores

to learn who she is

and love her even more.