Funfetti

from the antechamber of your birthday

i want to write you a poem

but nothing serious. we laugh too much for gravity to work.

i could mention an indefensible reality show

before placing a dog on the doorstep of your lucky life,

or allude to the serial clusterfuckings you outlasted,

though your granddaughters wouldn’t be allowed to read it.

then, there’s the delight you take in both kinds of fire;

the river from your bedroom window;

the perfect metaphor for resilience.

speaking of,

your pup is at the door again.

you rise to let him in,

his mouth full of daffodils.