stand up straight! a needed mantra for my sway back like a tall parenthesis bordering a crowd of
crooked I’s the spinal
pain of straightening easing with each day old roots have sprouted new green has replaced brown though I’ve learned to
water and feed my own tend to myself the world is not a very good gardener my petals in a pre-burst peak brilliant yellow and blue opal not the beige I thought they’d be from the big
colorless bud
then one morning it happens I unfold all the way and look at myself while the sky pulls me into its arms smothers me in a
hug of sunshine