“Blizzard”

The smile of a passing dog,

suburban afternoon,

worn, wandering,

taking paces in my American day.

 

Mothers crowd the square,

nannies trail behind them,

children zoom,

high on caffeine dreams.

 

All roads closed,

smartphone says so,

newspapers cling to newsstands,

obsolete like milkmen.

 

Snowflakes,

unrepeatable structures

fall in the predictable day,

melt on my eyelids,

I watched as long as I could.

 

Dream shards

poke through

this winter blanket,

fire flies in the mundane jar

rapid fire in the igloo.

 

—Bernadette Malavarca