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I See Her Today<br />
KENNETH POBO<br />
Leaden since Tuesday, the sky<br />
waits for the sun to push<br />
fire-hairy arms through<br />
a budding pussy willow. Clouds<br />
give way to a blue spreading<br />
across our brown yard,<br />
a trellis with dead morning<br />
glories pressed to it. Before<br />
mom died she asked for<br />
pussy willows. They arrived a week<br />
too late. I see her today,<br />
in a babushka, walking out<br />
to the bush, the tallest branches<br />
ten feet above her head,<br />
spring still seven weeks away,<br />
her steps lost to snow<br />
and bitter winds.<br />
-21-
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