Every morning I check
my Aries
hoping to read
You will soon find love.
Black coffee,
a bowl of Wheaties,
staring out at the cloud-laden morning,
imagining the face, the smile, the kiss.
Monday becomes Friday.
October becomes May.
What good is a horoscope
if it doesn’t provide hope?
I turn to the sports section.
Mets defeat Cubs in 10.
I will meet her at
the game.
