Oh magnolia tree,
why must you leave
traces of silver in your river?
Too many golden bodies
have gone limp attempting
to gather your glitter.
Sweet rain trickles
through the maples,
dripping sugary droplets
onto the crabapple trees
beneath them, feeding the sweet-
toothed creatures who eat them...
...I am a dogwood leaf
patiently waiting to be
chased by a dog’s
drooled teeth.
I am crunchy.
I am fragile
I am free.
I am sweet...
...Life is a
front yard garden.
Love is a seed in the sun.
We humans are the plants,
waiting to see which flower we become...
About the Creator
Kale Sinclair
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd | Zen Practitioner
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
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