I know your ring; who else would call on the first day of Spring to wish me Happy New Year, with seven S’s laid upon

Even now when inexplicably I think of you, something blooms Like a time-lapse reel of a lush Unfurling flower And I awake in a city

My mother’s people rousted about for oil In migratory circles through the south Over Oklahoma scrub and dust Tectonic tiles of sundried Texas mud Scarred

  My little sister's name means fairy tale In an ancient language I don't speak, Promising a story that ends well Peaking on a mountain