Look as long as you can at the friend you love,
no matter whether that friend is moving away from you
or coming back toward you.
We walk along crumbling blacktop,
the afternoon sun stabs my rugby tee.
Three geese straddle center of Sunny Lake
let go of everything
as they walk on ice. In shadows,
snowy floe cools my breath.
Last Sunday, father and son slid the hill.
Today, brown paints this slope.
Birds know the first day of March,
they chatter about wind.
Winter news falls from sky
spreading tree to tree.
will turn luscious emerald.
My daughter's pace quickens,
walking backward in front of me
I follow, her garnet cheeks
ablaze with sun.
Clarissa Jakobsons is the mother of two daughters. She works as the poetry editor of Arsenic Lobster and won first place in the Akron Art Museum 2005 New Words Competition. Her poetry has appeared in Cleveland Anthology of Poets, DreamSeekers Magazine, and WAH, among many other publications. She teaches creative writing at Cuyahoga Community College, art and journaling at a local art center; she also substitute teaches in the public schools.
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