by L.B. Sedlacek
We keep the tomatoes and apples in balance
to fend off the shivers, to
defend the acknowledgements delivered in pizza
pies, cheesecake. The egg salad is runny and brown
and the pipes are flooded with scenarios imagined
that never materialize – not even close. Being
friendly with the past is somewhat impossible. The
sunset falls on the hill like it always has, like it always
does and the dogs take their usual spot under the
dying trunk of the mulberry tree. The neighbors
cut it down, they said, because of the roots. But
the tree had grown large — blocking the view.
The weather forecast calls for rain and the
possibility of scattered thunderstorms
through tonight and into tomorrow.
L.B. Sedlacek has had poems published in publications such as “Clare Literary Magazine,” “Unlikely Stories,” “Arcturus,” “Folded Word,” “Woven Tale Press,” “Mastondon Dentist,” and “Lone Star Magazine.” LB is a former Poetry Editor for “ESC! Magazine.” She is the author of 13 chapbooks including her most recent one “Infra Dig (It’s a Chemical Life),” a successfully funded poetry project on Kickstarter.