Dry Freeze

Everything is frozen this morning, but the sky is clear An orange creamsicle sunrise through the mist Ice cream colors reminding me of the popsicles our fruits have become The grass lies dead in colors unfamiliar Slipping students talk about classes and television But my parents' nighttime words ring clearer in my ears My nose burns and bleeds the color of my cheeks The color of cherries still unseen from the trees Adults whisper that they might not come this year The lawn cracks under my sneakers like my lips It hasn't rained in a month And three months before that