How crass, your waiting for just enough snow
to whiten and weight the spruce bough
for a gaudy swoop-in, your scarlet arrival.
 
And how many winter mornings like this
have you posed, notice me, notice me,
letting that crown unscroll
for our beaten faces in the kitchen window?
 
You’re such a shameless, clichéd scene grabber.
 
Just sit there. Be gorgeous, stunning even.
See if we care.


From Not Quite Eden (Fireweed Press, 2010).
Used here with permission.