She can smell it: the weather is still
too cold outside.
Four robins lift worms from the frozen
lawn; a late morning wind carries
dust and the musk of winter daphne.
A zipper taps in the dryer & taps.
The neighbors’ excited squawking fills
the sidewalk. The woman continues
to hibernate despite caffeine & the tidy lists
she’s penned of things she will never do
before nightfall, despite the zipper’s tap
taps, despite this insistent typewriter
tapping out another wrecked plot.