Seasons Affected, Disorder

It’s spring but I’m stuck
in fall, roasting vegetables,
stocking savory seasonings,
drinking cider and spiced tea,
looking forward to holidays
that never were,
to a new year, different
from the one we’re in. I write
the wrong date on checks,
wait for the sky to get dark
earlier. The gloom blankets me
with autumn as I walk the dog.
The world is in a fog, thick
enough to drown.
Bundled in synthetic down,
the jacket’s insulated baffles
keep me warm, blind
to the flowers’ bloom.

*

Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and assistant editor at Gyroscope Review. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. Recent poems can be found in Minyan, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily. Her photos have appeared online and in print, including one which served as the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge prompt in 2019. She has two books, Alinea, and her most recent, co-written with Alan Walowitz, In the Muddle of the Night. In addition, she also frequently collaborates with San Diego artist Judith Christensen, most recently on an installation entitled “Mapping Our Future Selves.”