Elizabeth G. Howard

Poem for April 1

Lying flat on the grass,
Crushing the blades
I am a bookmark between
The earth and all that is above.

“You are not looking UP,”
I once read. “Imagine you can
Step out into the stars. All the
Universe is in front of you.”

All the universe — the sun which is a
Star; and greater suns indeed, also stars,
And the moons which are just rocks like
Gravel scattered between the flagstones.

The landscapers moved the daffodils.
“Give them some water. They’ll perk back up.”
Just so with this grass beneath me.
Those ants I laid poison for in the living room: not so lucky.

Sometime this week, the men will come to tear out the yuccas.
The women will carve out the daisies.
A redbud tree waits at the nursery to be adopted;
Legions of utility workers attend my yard with blue and yellow spray.

I lay on the grass
My sprained ankle rests akimbo.
I gaze up and plan a shutter painting party as clouds drift by.
In the nearest slice of sun

The dog drops her head and sighs.