Lizzy Burnam 🐞

Gray skies make me feel like
the world is under-developed,
all the details gone to sleep, 
and even the brightest yellow
daffodils have been darkened
by the rain. I am 26 and a half
and so tired of the downpour: 
another sister fallen in love
with a snake. People say only
time will tell, but time moves 
silently and speaks no language
except that of bearing witness
to the reluctant-strong flipping
through their calendar years
of pain. Here's mine: the dates
X'd out in black ink across grids
of February, April, May... Next 
door, the neighbor's kid tumbles
in the wet lawn, her Ugg boots
collecting mud and pink sweater
smeared with grass stains. Ha, 
the first human somersault must
have been a mistake. Imagine: 
a discombobulated Neanderthal
as his world flips upside down,
dumb-struck while the sudden roll
reverberates from his body to his 
brain—"Ha," I imagine his friends
saying: "Do it again! Do it again!"