Last summer my tomatoes Swept the garden. Downy tendrils swaddled jalapeños and My soiled hands Arrested dreams of eggplant Crept past my whispered pleas. Slow. Down. I pruned visions and Sacrificed limbs. Their heads bowed canary blossoms in A rain prayer Unanswered. Still they grew. I lopped green Sucklings into my palms. They tasted of air and roots Untethered. This year I let them be.
Katie (she/her/hers) is a writer, educator, and creative writing MFA student based in Oakland, California. She has been published in the Bold Italic, Hecate Magazine, Porridge Magazine, and The ANA. You can find her at @kahunteroma and katiehunterwriter.com.