because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

Like new leaves to frost in April

so many things can get lost
forever. like that cutting I stole
from a prickly pear outside the Mexican place
in Oyster Point when I lived there
for six weeks, learning
to deliver babies. never did
get it to bloom, and never did catch
a kid, either: one little bud
all I wanted to make it feel a little less
like killing time. I hauled
the thing back up the coast, nurtured
it for years, flowerless; left it with the rest
on the backporch that day after
mother died.  haven’t troubled
my hand with cactus since—
the yard all lavender and rose now,
like that bubblebath I brought her
that she never got to use,
only with thorns.

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2 responses

  1. Beautiful!

    April 7, 2016 at 7:07 pm

  2. thank you. 🙂

    April 8, 2016 at 9:35 am

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