Daylight as yellow as egg yolk,
a meditation on a cashmere rug,
spring creeps through the air conditioner.
Today is my day. I stare into my coffee.
I can interact with all the other fire ants
who scuttle in the dirt.
The sun does not glare
as the wisteria bob a soothing purple.
My one wish is to be loved
or touched or scolded beyond
recognition, so that years later
you will see me on the street
burning for that same connection
by the pizza shop wall, the way your pants
pressed into mine in the glint of flour dust.
Across the prairie kids pack pouches with tobacco
and tie them to the pines, learn how magpie
beat buffalo in the two-legged race.
Charlee Meiners is a PhD student in creative writing and poetry at the University of Southern Mississippi where she is a member of the Center for Writers. Her interests include disability and gender studies. She writes lyric narrative and persona poetry that explores identity, place, and memory. Her poetry has appeared in the Sam Houston State Review.