georgia, not the state

“write a piece about someone you think is unique, even unusual.”

her laugh blows smoke

light blue, graceful

sunshowers over the

maine countryside.

she is the bend of a celery stalk,

gentle and wise,

before the snap.

she is the bump in the old

embroidered pillow

from the loop you pulled out

when you were seven and

tried to put back into place.

she is the best monday

morning you can think of.

shards of light reflected in

black coffee,

daisies in a homemade vase

next to the orange half.

she is your well-loved

pair of birkenstocks.


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