by Sylvie Epstein
The magnolia is raining
And my bare arms tremble
Why does your nose sting when you’re about to cry?
I wrote once, about you, and the day with the crunchy leaves, and crying into my mother’s lap
I turn over.
The white cotton of my pillow is cool against my cheek
It feels like a deep breath and so I furrow my brows
Why must my chest feel so tight
I sit up and groan and put on Shelby Lynne
And think about how I should write you a book
Down the street, my red leather boots make me stand tall.
She sees me
and smiles
and waves
and invites me inside to sip tea and read
The others come.
Someone has told a joke and so everyone is laughing
Then later, the air is warm and I am in my aqua dress
Dinner was good, and I am full.
Then it is morning again. my chest is tight.
the pillow feels cool and like a deep breath. I sit and I groan. I furrow my brow.
I think about writing you a book.
The magnolia rains
