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Eavesdropping
by
Leland Jamieson
In
Memory of B.P.K.
For G.K.J.
Early evening,
February 14th.
Dad
steers in ruts
of snow and ice.
“Valentine’s
Day!” says
Mom, with hope,
“a girl
this time, all
sugar and spice?”
Dad pats her thigh.
(We’re wrapped
in taupe.)
“This road
would be as slick
as soap
but for the chains
and sand,”
he said.
She: “These
nor’easters
I just dread.”
Arrive
(she prays), if
you’d be
mine,
this side of midnight
if you will —
that way you’d
be My Valentine!
You’d be
the sunny daffodil
melting away the
winter’s
chill.
If you come late,
I’ll beg
to fudge
your birth certif
. . . if Doc will
budge . . . .
©
2007 by
Leland Jamieson
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