by Katherine West
Natali Sevriukova reacts next to her house following a rocket attack on Kyiv on Friday, February 25, 2022. —CNN |
In my dream
this is the last day of winter.
From here forward
when the moisture comes it will not be white
when the wind blows it will not cut
toes will not numb
noses will not run
gloves will not disappear
cars will not skid
heating bills will not rise
neighbors will not scream
flyers will not punch
police will not shoot
lawmakers will not obstruct
soldiers will not shell
soldiers will not shell.
The well-placed will not translate
the world
will not infinitely explain
what we knew since we were two
will not call us
"these people"
will not congratulate us
on tying our shoes
will not consider a different perspective
"not listening"
will not use every adjective except "white"
when describing people
will not consider themselves BFFs with God
will not consider nature a bank account
will not consider another country a stepping stone.
In my dream
this is the last day of winter.
From here forward
mini-iris will purple the planter boxes on main street
buds will swell on fruit trees
grass will green from the inside out
neighbors will greet
children will play outside until dark
and fear will sleep
until it is needed.
Katherine West lives in Southwest New Mexico, near Silver City. She has written three collections of poetry: The Bone Train, Scimitar Dreams, and Riddle, as well as one novel, Lion Tamer. Her poetry has appeared in journals such as Writing in a Woman's Voice, Lalitamba, Bombay Gin, The New Verse News, Tanka Journal, Splash!, Eucalypt, and Southwest Word Fiesta. The New Verse News nominated her poem "And Then the Sky" for a Pushcart Prize in 2019. In addition she has had poetry appear as part of art exhibitions at the Light Art Space gallery in Silver City, New Mexico and at the Windsor Museum in Windsor, Colorado. She is also an artist.