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I bloom along with the Magnolia Tree
At least that’s what she said.

She had watched from the window
As she grew round and full.
and the tree stayed withered and gaunt.

April trekked on.
Awakening dormant flowerbeds
Arousing the sleeping earth
but not that willful tree.

Then red and blue flashing lights
and a chloroxed white room
brought a little blossom.
A bundled blossom. A pale and peachy blossom.

And through the glass pane
she saw the magnolias had blossomed too.
And now, every year
I bloom with the magnolias.




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