Not many know
you were here.
Your spring path confirmed
at the heels of a summer that
never should have happened.
What I wouldn't give to feel your fresh air
that would have developed
over a hard winter.
You’d greet my new
strong mama arms.
Weaken me,
cause me to shiver.
I will never know
if you were more
Sunshine
than
Thunder.
Bree Bailey (she/her) is a NYC full-blown bibliophile. Her poems reflect on growing up, falling in/out of love, and family. Bree is great at air drums and decent at poetry. Bree’s poems are forthcoming in Anti-Heroin Chic, and All My Relations, among others.
Find her on Twitter at @thebreebailey