March

The hands complicate
chartreuse happenings—like plumage
they make you look. Up March

streaming north, March
a soft brown compliance.

March orbitally March run. Suspect

a heat snaked horizon, March
miles of wire to frame their ocean eyes. March
the deep cut generously, tar-mouthed March.
Stock the boats and honor the oar.

Camellias blood the streets: it’s post-parade.

 

***

K.M. English’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in cream city review, Sycamore Review, Brooklyn Review, and other places. She has worked in restaurants, gardens, academia, and in New Orleans public schools. She lives in Sacramento, CA, and is writing a book about waves.

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