A work many
springtimes
in the making,
owing all to
March snowmelt.

Collapse of gritty
snow banks, loosening
fringes of rump and angles
of shin, all askew
to the view of those
who will look.

Some will not,
switching lanes
punching buttons
flipping screens.

Dali looked. He grasped
the slip of time, rocks
devolved into crumbs,
exaggeration of bones
and pinking nude flesh.

His deer abound here,
the flattish spring sun
freeing their futile, final
canvas leap.

Yvette Viets Flaten grew up in an Air Force family and lived overseas and in various regions of the U.S. before coming to Eau Claire in 1973. She stayed, studying, raising a family, and developing her love of words. Yvette’s recent fiction has appeared in Lakefly, Barstow & Grand, Bang!, and Sheila Na Gig. Her latest poetry appears in Bramble, Portage Magazine, and Your Daily Poem.