The waterfall sat beside me,
we talked three hours
getting to know each other.
When I got up, she tagged along
following me through the hollow.
Her liquid voice on rocks burbled soft as moss.
She harmonized with the bird chorus,
sang a lullaby through my open window,
blanketed the crescent moon and stars.
She smelled the lilacs on the lawn,
lily-of-the-valley in the garden,
hugged the vegetable seedlings,
threaded the labyrinth to its center.
Her broken open whiteness
walked everywhere in Pumpkin Hollow.
Date Published: March 21, 2019