Published in pomegranate lit
They say “finding yourself” like you’ve got a map
with red pins; in each location, you’ll find a new
piece of yourself. I’m discovering myself
without ever leaving
my front porch. South Ave feels like
a fairy tale and the white flowers
look like tiny angels, kneeling,
praying on the branches.
I’ve never been able to get high enough
to know how sweet the blooms smell.
One time I got so high, the old tree
told me it loved me.
Thank you for reading!