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 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