by LA Felleman
Six pink roses from her garden clustered cut stems submerged in jelly jar labeled From Julie’s Kitchen: A Taste of Summer. She centered the impromptu vase on the porch table where she sat masked without shield fogging up from the drizzle. I remained shielded. That hour my brain tried to make sense of its view shifting features blurred by droplets into a familiar finally choosing the form of a Chinese dragon. The dragon and I gossip over details Viruses, vaccines, victories Wetland trails, wildfire flares, whimsies Then the dragon left for her den; leaving the flowers requested the jelly jar’s return (a gift from her sister) It stayed on my desk unfaded for two weeks until the smell turned a saturated sweet. The compost pile, mostly browns and slimes, is now rosy. --- LA credits the Free Generative Writing Workshops, the Midwest Writing Center, and Iowa City Poetry workshops for her development as a poet. Her first chapbook, The Length of a Clenched Fist, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.