All
Fools' Day
by Michael Brockley
by Michael Brockley
You
stare at your backyard through your patio window while drinking chai
and thinking about a woman you last saw five years ago. It's April 1.
The spirit of your white German shepherd still scampers after red
squirrels and digs at the chipmunk dens beneath your deck. You sip
your tea. The spice arouses your palate. You can hear your late
shepherd howl at train whistles as the ghosts cross McGalłiard
Boulevard. Your body sang to you while you sat beside her in the
theater where a man took midnight walks through Paris. Where an actor
found redemption after his fall from grace. Your chai is still warm.
The woman will be bicycling through Key West now. Anticipating an
afternoon sharing key lime pie with a man who resembles the French
actor whose name you can never remember. In your disheveled yard, a
cardinal perches on the lee side of a red maple to begin his spring
courtships. Your dog sleeps in the peach tree's shade. Five years
ago, she photographed the narrow, shadowed streets of Madrid. Shared
her family genealogy with its rogue's gallery of river pirates and
scalawag dukes. A pair of cardinals once nested in her arboretum.
Your cardinal swoops and glides the length and breadth of his domain
as he woos three hens, including last summer's beautiful albino. You
wonder at his acrobatic ardor. At the finesse that has eluded you
throughout your life. The male alights beside the albino. You set
aside your chai to reach for the morning song within yourself.
Michael
Brockley is a semi-retired school psychologist who still works in
rural northeast Indiana. Several of Brockley's poems have appeared
previously in Flying Island. In addition, his work can be found in
Atticus Review, Gargoyle, 3Elements, Tipton Poetry Journal, Third
Wednesday and Tattoo Highway. Poems are forthcoming in Riddled with
Arrows and Visiting Bob: Poems Inspired by the Life and Work of Bob
Dylan.