Never All Things at Once

Never All Things at Once

White blossoms or green leaves,
not both. “Edelweiss” with the Captain
and Liesl, pink and green-clad children,
Maria watching, or Act II’s reprise,

“Edelweiss” in concert, an anthem
before fleeing. The thousand-miles-away
city that you left to come here. The day
you intend to have, calling a friend

you haven’t spoken to since the holidays,
a cake you will create with fresh ginger
and lemons, laundry and uninjured,
strong body, long walk, bills you pay

two weeks early. And the day that digs
its fingers into you, a sore neck, deadlines
ratcheted tighter. In Kansas, the shrine
you build to Oz. In Oz, you dream of pigs.