at the bottom of your hill
that sits along the oxygen you grow
i remember being pricked
by a thorny vine last winter.
just so you know,
i wasn’t there by myself.

the flower petals spill
to the ground all in a row
it felt like being kicked
in the stomach by a ram’s horn.

i cried and cried
when that lightning bolt took you down
and me, without a fortress,
and no place to shine my crown.

still waiting to build something
amazing again.