waiting for a fortunate accident
it is autumn now,
and the leaves have parted ways with the branches to expose
knuckles and nose turning red under a canopy of cold rain,
to release your roots from the soil we once
little wings take flight
at the shake of their perch,
this uprooted skeleton of you.
and with them i send all of my doubt
and lift my chin toward the kindness of memories.
i reach under my skin to find
the pulse of a new affection,
i wrap it in words of other women
and plant it under the strength of my bare feet.
i can still hear its whisper
as i walk away.