I want lilacs to bloom in the dark of January
but get a writing friend in New Zealand where it’s summer.
I want to steal somebody’s Valentine in February
but get to visit my 90-year-old mother instead.
I want March winds to stop roaring with lions
but merry wind-chimes console me.
I want to mend the broken stems of April flowers under snow
and my son gives me my first grandchild.
I want to go cross country on vacation in May
but stay home to witness the judge marrying my son.
I want a long cool nap on a hot June day
but watch six warring hummers at the feeder instead.
I want rain to fall on the parched garden in July
that gives radish, spinach and green peppers for a salad.
I want to take an August walk in the snow
but watch clouds of butterflies alight on the hydrangeas.
I want strawberries to make jam in September
but the fruit stand has a quart of juicy peaches for shortcake.
I want a hummingbird to visit me in October
but get a kaleidoscope of falling leaves.
I want my family over for Thanksgiving dinner
but get their cat, Radar O’Malley, when they visit the in-laws.
I want a live tree to plant after Christmas
but it dies in short sleeve shirt weather with daffodils blooming.
sun salutations in shadow
Ingrid Bruck lives in Pennsylvania Amish country, a landscape that inhabits her writing. A retired library director, she writes short forms and poetry. Current work appears in Unbroken Journal, Eunoia, Peacock Journal, W.I.S.H and Entropy. Published poetry appears at: ingridbruck.com
–Art by Marina Ćorić