April’s cold snap
         fools next door’s
Lilac buds, glistens

         a white valediction on
Last night’s roadkill mange.
         And if this early

Cardinal bloodying
         the fenceline were
Consolation to dawn’s

         jerry-rigged claptrap
Where cracked curb
         and razor gravel crosshatch,

I could listen
         to the trash can’s
Tipped-over plea, the skewbald

         hallelu of a dying lawn,
And praise nothing,
         let daybreak’s

Brokenness catch like
         glass shards in my throat
And not swallow.