Listen to a recording of Dolores Hayden reading “Pacific Airstream Reaches New England”here.
86 degrees, December
Balmy high. The New Dawns start in June—
eight Decembers have I lived here, never
smelled pink bushes in the winter. Ever.
Sun-warmed, thawed, and lazy, I won’t prune.
Basking, I forget it’s almost Christmas,
shed my heavy sweater. Grass needs mowing,
weighted with full blossoms, canes keep growing.
Short-tailed starlings swarm our narrow isthmus,
crowd the maples. Cackle ordinary
happiness, an iridescent, hot noon.
Listen: soot wings wheeling snap warm air.
Roses bud to open. Don’t be wary.
Weather beggars winter. Love now, not soon.
Yes, we’ll stretch out on the beach. I dare.
