remember that storm?

the trees became horizon -

a sideways zipper.

tornados sealed the world

who appeared ripping.


my face likewise gathers

flowers in each crease.

afar a sunset’s glow

up close, a garden. 


every crevice, my mothers hand

all sweat all storm, a watering can

that permits my face to blossom.

even elbows bloom.


beauty passes down 

through fingertips of rain.

what was dry became fertile

once tickled.