On this leaden day
my husband cuts
and brings inside
a fistful of daffodils
frilled and yellow
as the organza dress
my grandmother
gifted me when I
was three or four,
the one that itched—
I never was a very
girly girl. They bear
a floral perfume,
a high whine, with
a lower coffee note,
like a scented lady
at the theater in
the seat next to you
and nowhere to go;
it’s strong enough
to dissuade the deer
and they eat
almost anything.
They almost glow
in my white kitchen,
turn million dollar
smiles at my
seasonal malaise.
I can’t stay mad.
Yes, it’s just
stupid April,
but what else
have we got?
Marjorie Tesser’s poetry and fiction have appeared in Cutleaf, Sunspot Literary, Molecule, SWWIM, and others. Marjorie earned her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College and won a John B. Santoianni Award from the Academy of American Poets. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, co-editor of three anthologies of poetry and prose, and editor-in-chief of MER-Mom Egg Review. More info at linktr.ee/marjorietesser