The Other Side in April

It’s not greener. Admit it.

Muddy, punctuated

with burned spots

from the dogs.

Over the fence, familiar,

the other side lies.

Stand on tiptoe.

This late

spring

snow clings

to the fence posts

and paced paths,

months of boot prints

that won’t melt

until May.

It’s all the same,

persistent

unmelting.

In every yard,

a playhouse

buckling

under the pressure.