I do not like yoga.
But, outside my window, there is a magnolia tree
and I need the excuse to stand still
and breathe
and stare at the one last blossom hanging on to warmer
weather,
longer days,
and the summer that brought me here.
This change, those seasons, swapping flip-flops for snow boots
and sunglasses for scarves,
reminds me that now, I am here;
I have been here for long enough to glimpse the season after
summer,
and, the next season of my life.
And I smile, realizing, it is good.
This place, these walls,
are mine,
and that magnolia tree is close enough that I can pretend it
is mine, too.
And I will be here the next time those white flowers blossom,
seasons later.
I have always wanted a magnolia tree.
I used to love yoga,
I do not anymore for a lot of boring reasons from
seasons past,
but I have always wanted a magnolia tree,
and here,
in this moment where I set my gaze on the last magnolia of
the season,
it is mine.
And it is good.
