From this height I know you must exist
Trees, when they learn
they are dying, give
surrounding trees their nutrients.
You blew dandelions, scattering
seeds through the yard
and around the black walnut tree.
You believed in them
the way you believed in white horses,
the full moon, birthday candles.
The truth is
I am scared The truth is
the dark is real.
The ground closes its eyes around
those small laid out bodies.
Light from the moon
your only visitor, you wished away
every white-grey dandelion feather, believing then love
The feeling left only when I found you,
electrical cord around your neck.
Stephanie Bryant Anderson earned her B.S. in English and Psychology from Austin Peay State University. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Passages North, Birmingham Poetry Review, Mid-American Review and others. Her chapbook Monozygotic | Codependent (2015) is available from The Blue Hour Press. Currently Stephanie is completing an M.S. in Mental Health Counseling.