Winter for a Moment Takes the Mind
{An Umbrella Special Feature}

Brooklyn Copeland

was born in Indianapolis in 1984. She has since been living in Tampa, Florida and Northern Europe.

Her poems have recently appeared or will appear in Burnside Review, Ballard Street Poetry Journal, Cause and Effect, and Nthposition. Her blog is alsace-lorraine.

—Back to “Extra” Contents—

Summer SAD

I dream of the austere.
The borealis, unannounced.

Of true childhood weather,
whose sap taps filled

coffee cans, whose
packets of blighted Polaroids

caught no less than invisible
halos. Whose black

Glad bags made quick
bobsleighs and stiff

longjohns chafed numb
lamb legs. On the bunny hill,

I dream of peppermint
overkill. Of Burl Ives’ face

on a home-knit sweater.
Of Elsie Borden’s thick

egg nog. Of toasted almonds
and bloated raisins

at the bottom of the wide
punch bowl. I dream of a cheap

red velveteen lap, of a midnight
mingling with a rum-raw tongue.

I dream of dropping and flailing
in the fine, warm snow.

Of the angel who appears
beneath me. From nowhere.