2017/2026 (Tarot, the Sun Reversed).
I am not familiar with sunshine.
My mother is a rain cloud
and my father is gauze
saturated with chloroform and mud.
My energy diffuses,
dulling itself—
like pitted silver a century old.
But that was long ago.
Why do I forget
the horses we rode out on—
manes unbound,
no matter how many flowers we braided in.
All those voices
insisting
we were bright.
Still, I remember
the heat warms us,
the lawns brown
and the dirt cracks.
