And as I’m Growing

Jessica Lovett || Fall 2020

a shadow of all of us made on the 
floor
ripped out 
of a memory
of when this would happen 
and we’d crawl, maybe,
four feet, knees weak
wilted maple tree in the breeze,
not summer, not yet, but at least there’s a breeze—
see?
i always come back
we’ll always still meet

even when we trip and break a billion things.