Her Magnolia

Last spring mama counted
sixty-two blossoms
on the tree outside her window,

sixty-two explosions of life
perfuming the air with promise.
Trapped in her chair,

high in her fortress of years,
mama's vision is the only thing
that leaves the room each day,

wandering across the parking lot
to her magnolia. The highlight
of her day is counting blossoms

in the last spring of her life.
She will die in October, losing
or winning the lottery,

dying with drawn out beat
of pain, but for now it is spring
and mama is alive,

sitting in front of the window,
television off, quietly counting
her blessings.

"Her Magnolia" was first published in Little Patuxent Review, Issue 39, Winter 2026, and then again in May 2026 in Mama, my fourth unasked for book.