Robin Turner

Even Now

Scattered across grey pavement,
                    a spill of spent petals, somehow still

          ghostly whole & vivid, white
as snow. Even now, in summer,

     a soft June
          morning holds the confettied

                    remnants of a promise. The heart shifts.
A crow tilts its head. And somewhere a small girl

                                  in ribbons & tulle bends down
          to scoop up the bright blossoms, handfuls

of light she will pin like paper daisies
                        to our waiting winter coats.

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Robin Turner‘s poems, prose poems, and flash fiction have appeared in DMQ Review, Rattle, Rust + Moth, The Texas Observer, Bracken Magazine, and elsewhere. Her chapbooks are bindweed & crow poison (Porkbelly Press) and Elegy with Clouds & (Kelsay Books). She is a community teaching artist in Dallas, Texas, where she lives near White Rock Lake.