Break

— Joanna Doxey

The birds are weird, the sky
and clouds. The winter—
is late and then here and here
and not quite right. Orion, my palms are skyward
again. I am listening,
looking for signs            but the birds
and air and clouds                        everything
is not quite right.



                                    I got bored of the flower project
                                    the prayer project these words
                                    in boxes            inside flowers

It snows today, my gratitude
shifts shape, changes possibility
changes the possible flowers

                                    & the shape of my grief.


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