410 The Longest Month

At the reception on Saturday some people commented on my poem that had been published in The Lakesider, July 31. Of course, I assumed it was my "Last day of July" poem, because I'd submitted several. But it wasn't, as I discovered when I looked through the paper that evening. It was my poem about February.

The Longest Month at the Lake--February
In the winter
when the snakes sleep
and the deer run
to the islands
on the ice flow
and my blood's thick,
cold and lonely
I will welcome
any stranger who waves,
any acquaintance who stops,
and any mail addressed to occupant.

There are two possibilities why the editor chose this one. 1) She is from the area and lives there in the winter, unlike the vacationers who just see the "perfect days." 2) She's of the school that believes poems shouldn't have rhyme or meter. The third possibility, I suppose, is that it fit the space!