April 10th

Jun 1

by Matt Try

Winner of the Editor’s Choice Category!

April 10th

The spring air smells like pine needles and life and

its his birthday today.

The sun still burns my skin without him,

and the bugs still flitter

from blade of grass to new bud

to scraped skin.

I can’t remember the last time I cried.

Geese honk in the distance;

I wonder if they have prayed today.

Mary Oliver sticks to my mind

like grass stains,

painting me with poetry.

It’s his birthday today,

but the frogs still croak in the creek beds

and I am

alive

A Woman.