NaPoWriMo 5/30: Country


Early summer is a curious child
rubbing supple green leaves
between her fingers, deeply inhaling
spice from a rose, staring dead-on
into a dragonfly’s eyes. Early summer
is anticipation, rolling in soft
pasture grass, purpling fingers
with muscadine juice, searching the woods
for a maypop vine. Early summer lives
in my chest, spreads to my fingertips,
ends up on this page.


Prompt via “Write a poem that is based in the natural world.”

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