I don’t know what I can say
If you tell me I have sad eyes
It’s because I am sad
If you say I look tired
It’s because I am
If you comment I’m short tempered
I would cock my eyebrow
Because that’s not news

So this afternoon
I have lain my t-shirt quilt 
Underneath my stunted redbud
I have sat upon it
And tried to find some tranquility 

It’s not working

But I don’t have anything else
I really want to do
I am thankful
My allergy pills seem to be working
And there has not been an invasion 
Of Boxelder bugs
For a few years now
I admire my Columbine
Pink and yellow

It’s the little things, you see

Do I deserve to write of a battered heart
Or restless nights
What are appropriate topics
You reckon
If I could write of trite happiness
Would my intentions shine through?

So yes
Lush clover
Inches from my face
But still no four leaf-ers 
Yet
I wonder if you found
What you were looking for

“You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.” 
Alain de Botton


Love from Appalachia,
~Amy