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Hillary B Apr 9
daffodils are one of my favorite things
they spring up from the earth
often unannounced
in places you never knew they were
empty lots, parks, and such

they arrive
reach for the sun like an old friend
follow the light from sun up to set
brighten the day of passersby
if only for a short time
soon they’ll hide
buried in the ground
don’t fret
they'll always be back in March
Hillary B Apr 8
places to fall in love:

a café, while sipping on their charm

at a museum, where they're still the masterpiece

an arcade, as you let them win your heart

on a rollercoaster, where there's nothing like that rush

in a theater, while holding their hand tight

on a paddle boat, where teamwork is key

a garden, add water and watch love take root

a bookstore, as your fingertips brush their spine

on the bay, with ocean mist kisses

in their arms, the safest place
Hillary B Apr 7
if everyone could see inside your head
what embarrassing things would they find?

a school kid prank where your pants fell below your waist

or that time your card was declined

when you mispronounced organism in class

or choking on communion at church

mine would be that I still love my mom
despite everything
Hillary B Apr 6
there’s a few things I carry
despite not having a need
tiny things hidden in my pack
but they don’t bother me

a fossilized shark tooth is my favorite
given to me by a child

next is four different lipsticks
all roughly the same shade

a rock shaped like a triangle
I found on the bay

two pairs of gloves
one brown, one black

a limited edition Dum-dum pop
picked up from my bank

a button from my jacket
I still need to fix

three pens
one black, two blue

still the most useless thing I carry
is my love for you
Hillary B Apr 5
falling over roots of past love
bumps permanently in route
covered by lichen
hidden nearly completely by time
run safely
dance lightly
for the roots are always underfoot
emerging even in the clearest of meadows
where brooks babble
fauna flock
flowers grow freely
a refuge from roots

even in this refuge
roots start to emerge
they see the brook with thirsty eyes
they long for one long sip
be careful
for when they spring up
fauna will panicked
flowers will refuse to bloom
dismantling your safe place
wanting to consume

don’t stand idle
for the roots will wrap you up
reclaim you as their own
leech water from your brook

safety is a desert
dark, dry, and dull
no brooks
no flowers
no fauna
no place for you at all

— The End —