The Orange Room Review
Accessible poetry of substance
Late Snow, By the Numbers
by Ron. Lavalette
I spent the night, head filled with numbers and
dreams of numbers, and in the frozen morning
- new snow on all the branches - I'm filled with
numbers still: readout on the oil tank, wattage
of the feeble lightbulb, what part of the pound
of coffee remains until I'm drowning in a sea of
numbers too great to reckon.
Five new inches
of snow at the end of April, the month pretending
to be March, going out like a lion on all fours,
temps in the lower double digits. Five new inches
of snow, even though the moon has orbited the
frogpond almost half a dozen times already
since the new year's turn. Five new inches of
snow on the three or four places we'd reserved
for delphinium and columbine, for roses, lilies,
and various summer whatnot.
All the world's awash
in white. April's almost over; I'm counting on May.
RON. LAVALETTE lives in Vermont's Northeast Kingdom, land of the
fur-bearing laketrout and the bilingual stop sign. He has been widely
published both in print and online. A sample of his published work can
be found at Eggs Over Tokyo.