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Today, a Saturday, early June, I bloom in this summer dress, in the same pattern as when I was half my size and a quarter of my age. I have put a plaster over my grazed knee, scraped and stained green by the garden that I grew up in. I sit in the same swing (only more splintered), hung on the same ropes (only more frayed) from the same horizontal branch of the same tree that I had carved my initials into. I am the same as the tree, the same as me before, only grown, upwards, my leaves searching for light, my rose petals following the sun. And today, a Saturday, early June, I bloom. |
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CONVERSATION
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Oldest First
Louise C. Fair
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Grown on August 26, 2010
_buttercup
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Grown on June 04, 2010
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