the arrival of blooming magnolias
on the trees of the suburbs.
i'm not sure i could even say
exactly when they bloom.
but when they come, they come.
and when they're not around,
i think, aw i hope the magnolias
bloom soon. i'll feel better then.
i told him once that when i
die, i want them to plant a
magnolia tree for me. sometimes,
i imagine something more
grandiose, like a sapling that
grows into a giant oak, steady
and strong, planted on the expansive
land that i raised my children on.
but i think, i'd rather have an
elegant magnolia with a more
medium sized abdomen and arms,
being sort of normal and also
beautiful and understated.
most likely planted in some
forgotten place where travelers
will wander and eat picnics
beneath her. and where my
friends will wonder when the
magnolias will bloom, we wished
the magnolias would bloom.
everything would be better then.