Winter Promises

A short poem I can REALLY identify with this time of year ...

Winter Promises

Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks,

eggplants glossy as waxed fenders,

purple neon flawless glistening peppers,

pole beans fecund and fast growing as Jack's Viagra-sped stalk,

big as truck tire zinnias that mildew will never wilt,

roses weighing down a bush never touched by black spot,

brave little fruit trees shouldering up their spotless ornaments of glass fruit:

I lie on the couch under a blanket of seed catalogs ordering far too much.

Sleet slides down the windows,

a wind edged with ice knifes through every crack.

Lie to me, sweet garden-mongers:

I want to believe every promise,

to trust in five pound tomatoes and dahlias

brighter than the sun that was eaten by frost last week.

-- Marge Piercy