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things I want to remember about march:

electric yellow forsythia
the making of a buttery oniony heavenly marcella tomato sauce
the making of it again and again 
my first silent book club
ezra's sculpture on exhibit, my heart burst wide open
a box of clothes from the nineties, unearthed
the ordering of a clear bubble umbrella
sumo oranges, gold nugget mandarins
the sky on fire over ponce
things I wanted to tell my newly sixteen year-old niece and her friends, but didn't
sunrise over the city, twenty-one floors up, hotel like a space ship
marshmallow peeps received from my dad in the mail, handwritten letter, twenty dollar bill taped to the box
flower petals like paper confetti, all over our driveway
swirling in shopping mall parking lots, on highways and sidewalks
caught in veinous concrete cracks underneath the most unremarkable parkways
papery petals everywhere, I tell you, the onslaught of spring 
my hands drawn by ava, exquisitely, on a monday afternoon
the sketchbook of hellos, thrifted
the kids in the hammock, reading 
nape of my neck now completely bare, tufts of hair at my feet
my favorite rauschenberg on the very last day of the month
honey light in the living room around seven, finally
and that cardinal song