Leaving Tallahassee

Here, everything lives. Always.

 

Palm fronds on the lids of my eyes,

tangles of Spanish moss and

ivy along my spine.

Hydrangeas on my kneecaps.

 

Live Oaks

drop

acorns,

pooling

at my

feet.

 

There, in the Midwest, I will be reminded of my own abscission.

 

My recent release of things

no longer needed;

in unison with my

dying home.

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