equinox girl

the dogwood never bloomed last year.

the weather was perfect—the kind you

can barely feel against your skin without

 

a wind; the type of temperate that makes you

lose a sense of where you end and it begins.

but the tree went straight to leaf; it chose to not

 

proudly flower its little cotton crowns that soften

and peel off and land soundlessly in your lap.

it was what she first saw; it was what drew her

 

to this house. and now, almost two years later,

she is waiting again to see if it will bloom;

she is waiting again to see what will be.

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2 thoughts on “equinox girl

  1. I just enter the poem. Right there in the weather, the tree, the waiting.

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