Play Date Poem by Val Morehouse

Empty days slop blue over the
bottomless bucket of cold.

Frost twists then lifts its white handkerchief from
trunks still stiff with the long march through winter.

Clanging like a breakfast bell the warty limbs call out
As wind mists an invitation against cold panes.

At last the day cracks open its shadowy outline over front lawns,
spilling its packaged rainbow the way

color ripples across a well. Only then will
the squat house shell out its children.

Unfolding like buds of delight in the fresh sunshine
their mouths blast wide with mischief;

And the ground glows green to greet them,
hatching out into daffodils sibilant with birdsong.