a year ago today i dreamed about a time
I would stop chasing chrysanthemums
in the middle of winter.
i woke up lost, but as light
found its way to the palms of my hands,
i climbed the only ladder that stands,
and today i watch the chrysanthemums grow
into roses and lilies. i was told.
sometimes i still look in the middle of winter
but all i find is white doves in a picture.
Sierra Danielle is not, and was never, the hell you put her through. instead, she is the growth that she allowed herself to make.