April – Susan Robertson

A girl is building a nest of leaves.
I can tell a raven

from a crow. I’m trying to write
a poem of praise.

See the sun transluce
the bird’s feathers—the daffodils’

belled mouths blare yellow.
Is it ungrateful to look away?

Rain has washed the dust
from the car; grass is trying

to continue. Even the dead
will outlive me.

Susan Robertson

Susan Robertson grew up in the United States but has happily made her home in Canada for many years. Recent work has appeared, or will soon, in CV2, Prairie Fire, and The Offing.

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