Ode to February in New York

Even in week
one you show up
scuffed and muddy
it’s just your nature
and no one
likes you
but we drive
through your town
of boot and
bouillon factories
into March with
its shoe store
and soup restaurant.
Forty-five years
ago a friend
advised I dress
up for you or
be an emotional
goner—so true!
From within the
walled city of your
calendar month
the special editions
sail back over
unread because
being more experienced
than us who look down
our noses at you
you take
the high ground
and cultivate compassion
grant us permission
to not look
yet again at
the photos or relive
the country’s
close call;
having been doled
the fewest days
you know enough
is enough of
the year before
so I vote you as
officially starting
the year
and resolve to see
your strengths. Even
your two r’s
analogy for
the way we stub
our toes getting
through time—
how like real life
you are. We are
hopeful creatures;
what covers up
the mess also
feeds the bulbs
and we need that
to elevate our
self-image which
can be terribly low
just now, so
thank you.