Calendar

“November,” mouths the silver crane
poised aloft, in six-inch wingspan stride.
Bold calligraphy scrawls, Celebrate Change;
Behind, the bird soars in easy, thoughtless glide.
The girl who pinned-up this calendar, though,
recognizes that it has just turned January,
and the frozen field, outside her window
is wintry and stale, a cold, ashy grey.
She lifts two plates from the table,
scrapes yellow egg into the trash. This year
has just begun, she says.
She turns the page: an angel.
The petulant child on the floor cries
and grabs her ankle.