I started like a seed, sprouting
in a wild world of June’s bloom.

Growing tall in the sun’s land
I asked why the night comes.

My mother knelt at old oak trees
in empty fields holding hope

in her hands. I spent
summers throwing rocks at stars,

waiting for them to fall
while looking for forever

in their unending light.
I left our ghosts in the garden

and aged among the hungry bees
searching for bright flowers

despite the darkness,
for even the night is as thin as paper.

– Natalie Marino

Note: A different version of this poem was published online by UCity Review in December 2021.