life cycle
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find me again in october let the cold winter windsstart to howlface me again now that it's overand free me from the same days belowtrace my roadmapi've drawn on my skinand remember that
I am a seed
I am planted and nurtured, carefully tended as I grow, there is no knowledge of what I will become, a beginning awaiting
I am a flower
Somehow, she holds
a delicate balance in the air.
Not graceful—
she tips as if filled
with sloshing, sweet water—
but she stays above the dirt
until she's found her niche
