February is a reversal: pancakes in rewind
inverse wavelength of fork and plate.
(these are sounds you can wash down a sink)
one more storm, this dish makes spring break,
drain snow off the windowsill that juts like her lips
grip- bend her back over the frying pan,
she makes the bacon sing, "mama mama!" (but she
will not be this for my kids)-- the eggs leave the grease and disappear
crumbled, yellow, morning schoolbus tones
a hand-drawn sun with veins that bless the lawn.
in a bathrobe, coffee-fisted hologram, i project her here
(stifling a yawn), feet glued in one tile block.
i crank back the tape and wait another year.
