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



About the Author

Leland Jamieson lives and writes in East Hampton, Connecticut, USA. Recent and forthcoming work appears in numerous print and Internet magazines. His first book, 21st Century Bread, can be previewed and is available at www.lulu.com/lelandjamieson.


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