Hobble Creek Review
Hobble Creek Review
M.J. Iuppa
First Day of April

In Hamlin, New York
I wake before dawn, before
the furnace kicks on,
and look out the kitchen
window to see a thumbnail
moon stuck in the crease of
arctic clouds. It’s Spring
and it’s dark in spite of time
leaping ahead– it’s still cold.
The cornfields are full
of Canada geese and mute
swans, heads bent low,
scrounging broken rows
for kernels no longer gold.
My family is asleep while
I make slow-drip coffee
and check yesterday’s
mail. Absent-mindedly, I
click on the t.v. to
listen to local news–
two more homicides
in the city, she says, and I
look up from my stack
of bills to see a crowd of
neighbors pulled from sleep.
Ashen faces stand
out against the flash of red
lights and yellow tape.
Today’s date isn’t a joke,
although someone says
somebody’s a fool.
Who knows who did
this? Again, the reporter
repeats the headline
I’ve heard before, only
this time her voice isn’t
timid or imploring,
it’s weirdly matter-of-fact–
addressing all who
hear this, all who know
mathematics, know
the cave of zero, know
how to ignore the sounds
of coffee dripping and feel
the chill of an empty space.
M.J. Iuppa  lives on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Her
forthcoming publications include her second full length collection, Within
Reach, from Cherry Grove Collections and her chapbook, As the Crow
Flies, from Foothills Publishing. She is Writer-in-Residence and Director
of the  Arts Minor Program at St. John Fisher College, Rochester, N.Y.